Ember In The Dark
by Tawny The Disturbed
Summary: Warren quickly learns that he won't easily be able to get rid of Will when he takes him home one night after finding him hurting in a dark alley. Requested by 'Loveless fangirl'. Rated M for UNCONSENTED INTIMACY, CURSING, SLASHY LEMON and DARK THEMES.
1. Finding You

**Yes I know. Straying again. But this is for a good freaking cause! It was a request by one of my Oxygen fans: Loveless fangirl! Honey, I started this up just for you. It's only the first chapter, and it's going to be short. But I hope it'll live up to and way past your expectations. **

**Don't worry everyone else, I'm still working on Oxygen. I've just had a very bad sinus infection that spread to my eyes. I went to the doctor and she said if I hadn't gone in, it might have progressed and I could have very much well have been intensely sick and perhaps six feet underground. Haha. So now I'm being pumped FULLA drugs! 135mg per pill which I have to take twice a day...A big pink horse pill. Haha. No worries, I have no trouble swallowing it though. I'm like House. I can swallow like six pills at a time XDD And no, I'm not a druggy addict...I just have an _amazing_ throat... **

**I'm off to my drama practice now. Enjoy the new story's first chapter!**

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><p>A figure strode down the sidewalk. It was a dark and noiseless night, save for the occasional passing vehicle. The figure passed under a street lamp, lighting up the face of an irritated-looking Warren Peace. He paused at the end of the sidewalk to glance around him for the headlights of any passing cars. Then he stomped across the crosswalk, mumbling angrily to himself.<p>

At the other side, he tucked his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket. He had just had a long night of work at the Paper Lantern. Part of the night he spent trying to keep the two newbies from taking the wrong meals to the wrong tables. Another part listening to the head chef, Bai Da, talk about his currently PMSing wife. Another part listening to the manager, Shu, bark orders like a little Chinese Chihuahua. Another part listening to a waitress, Lan, vent her frustrations about her current boyfriend because apparently she thought that Warren gave a shit. And yet another part closing up.

It all wasn't enough apparently. Right after he locked the door behind him, he had walked with a long exhausted sigh to his motorcycle, taking down his hair as he went. He had mounted his bike, with full intention on returning to his most likely empty house and falling into his bed. He'd buckled on his helmet and flipped the live switch to turn the keys and his motorcycle over.

And _nothing_ had happened. He'd spent about fifteen minutes trying to get his bike to start, and the thing would…_not_…start.

With no one around, and the fact it was so late, Warren was forced to leave for home on foot. It wasn't how he had wanted to spend what was supposed to be his night off. But nope, he'd been called in. Sure he appreciated the extra pay…but he'd already worked about thirty five hours this week. He was tired. And nothing else seemed to want to improve his mood.

And yet, to top the entire mountain of suckfest that was Warren's current life, school had started up about two weeks and a half weeks ago. He figured that about one hundred supers attended Sky High. And he didn't want to know ninety-nine of them. He recognized the ones from his grade of course. But he found that he actually knew someone. Someone new.

A freshman. Will fucking _Stronghold_. The son of the fucking _Commander_. Christ, he may have been a lot smaller than him but he looked so much like his asshole father. His hair, some of his facial features, and his wardrobe that constantly contained red, white and blue. A Hero dressed in red, white and blue had taken his father away from him when he was just a small boy.

He'd done his best to keep his memories of that night vague in his head. But it haunted his dreams constantly. He couldn't have been older than four years old. In his eyes, his father was a Hero in all aspects. And indestructible Hero. The one who carried him up high on his shoulders. The kind to encourage the growth of his son's power to control fire. To tell him stories. To visit him nearly every night while his mother was asleep and unaware. To give his son the leather jacket that he had worn in high school.

And yet, he remembered just innocently sitting on the front porch steps with his father, telling him about the four little girls in his preschool class who had put a valentine into his cubby for Valentine's Day last week. And all hell broke loose as sirens started to wail, red and blue lights flashed, and his father lit up in raging, red flames that rose from his body like powerful wings. And in came running that goddamned prick…dressed all in red, white and blue with his stupid sidekick trailing behind him. Stronghold Senior came running in with some stupid catchphrase that Warren hadn't bothered to remember and had none too gracefully locked into a devastating fight with Baron Battle.

Warren growled and ran his hand down his face. God, he hated the Stronghold name. He hated that they both frequently wore red, white and blue, claiming to be patriotic. He really didn't like little Stronghold and he fucking hated Stronghold Senior. Warren had meant it entirely when he'd told little Stronghold in the detention room after their cafeteria fight that if he ever dared to cross him again, he'd roast him alive.

His jaw clenched and he applied the toe of his boot to a few metal garbage cans that were already tipped over and spilt on the ground. The kick had caused a loud metallic bang as the trash cans were upset and clattered into the unlit alleyway. And amongst the loud clang of the tumbling garbage cans, Warren heard a cry.

He paused in his frustration, his ears perking at the sound. At first he had figured that he'd knocked some cans over on top of some homeless person or a runaway and surprised them. But as the cans settled, he became aware of a quiet sound. Almost silent, distressed breathing; frightened and labored. He tilted his head slightly.

_A hobo or a runaway would've bitched at me…_

His shoulders tensed as he slowly raised one hand in front of him. He clenched his fist, and a placid but bright flame sprouted from his clenched fingers as if he were holding a grade-A lighter. He didn't know what to expect, but he wasn't going to get himself found out if it was a mortal, and his clenched muscles braced for a possible trap.

He stepped carefully around the upset garbage cans and the ember cast a lenient, glowing orange shadow over the brick walls of the valley. He looked around and he quickly lowered his hand when he heard a soft whimper. And then the orange light cast over a face.

His hair was mussed. Blood trickled down from the cut on his lip. Blood encrusted the scrape on one side of his chin where it was most likely ground into the asphalt. The blue eyes looked gray and distant in the orange light. Warren furrowed his brow. "Stronghold?"

Those eyes never looked up at him, they just stayed ground level and stared far away with brows arched upward slightly above them. His jacket was bunched around one arm and his shirt had a rigid tear underneath the backside of the collar. He was curled up on his side, his left arm lost under his body which was shaking and trembling in time with his shuddering breaths.

"What the hell is…" Warren paused. He tilted his lit hand a bit. Will's right hand was in a death grip on the waistband of his jeans. Warren stepped a little closer and slowly crouched down. "Jesus Christ," he muttered. He set the flame down on the ground as if it was a lantern and it sat there, still burning placidly.

Warren reached toward Will and hesitated. "Stronghold?" All he got for an answer was a gasp when his palm hardly brushed Will's shoulder. Will flinched with a choked cry. Warren got off of his toes so he was settled down onto one knee beside Will.

"What the hell happened to you?" Warren asked, reaching to grasp Will's shoulder. When he flinched, Warren ground his teeth in frustration. "_Hey_. Calm the fuck down." This only made Will bury his face into the ground with a whimper of fear, making his hair fall over his face. His trembling body curled up just a little tighter.

Warren closed his eyes a moment and switched his tone to a much gentler one, "Hey. It's alright. Hey, easy. I'm not gonna hurt you." Well why wasn't Warren going to hurt him? He hated his guts, and he thought he should feel a little sore that someone beat the crap out of Stronghold before he could. But he didn't. So why was he striving to make his tone gentler? And why was he very gently starting to rub little Stronghold's back to reassure him?

"I may hate the air you breathe, but I'm not really one to kick someone when their face's already been ground into the pavement." He said, more of a reassurance for himself rather than for the shivering boy.

Will wasn't shying away anymore now that Warren was speaking softly. He wasn't shying away from his touch, but he was still shivering.

"Calm down. C'mon. You get jumped? Want me to go call the cops?"

Warren jumped when Will let out a terrified shriek and scooted away from Warren as fast as he possibly could until he was up against the brick wall.

"Fuck's sake..." Warren uttered, settling his wrist against his knee. This time Will's eyes were tightly shut, his face was contorted slightly, as if he was waiting for a blow to fall upon him. As if what Warren had just said was a death sentence from a judge.

So Warren relented, "Okay, okay. Calm down. It's alright." He tilted his head slightly, watching Will tremble against the wall, still curled up on his side. His right hand was still gripping the waistband of his jeans as if it were a lifeline. Warren noticed another cut to the collection on Will's face, right above his eyebrow. And down near the curve of his jaw there was a bruise.

Warren shook his head, "It's alright. I've been jumped before. I got a knife pulled on me. Got a couple scars to prove it. I didn't call the cops either. But that's just because I powered up and beat the shit out of _them_."

Warren had meant it to be a little funny but he figured that he'd been wrong.

Will was still trembling.

He heaved a sigh and reached up to brush his fingers back through his hair. "Stronghold. It's late. Now do you want me to help you, or just leave you here shivering like a petrified little stray puppy?"

He shifted closer to Will and grasped his shoulders. "Easy." He urged when Will flinched. "It's alright. C'mon. On your feet." He gently encouraged as he stood up, getting the smaller boy to actually stand on his feet. He was still trembling, and his eyes still had not found Warren's. They were downcast, shivering against Warren's touch.

"C'mon, let's go." Warren said gently, turning the roughed up boy toward the mouth of the alley. "Easy does it." Warren encouraged, practically pushing and pulling Will out of the alley while still remaining right beside him. He led him around the upset garbage cans and out onto the sidewalk. He noticed how gingerly Will was moving, wincing and limping all added to his shivering. And he still kept his right hand gripped fervently on the waistband of his jeans.

"There you go." Warren said, finally letting go of Will. But Will still would not look at him. Wouldn't stop shaking. Wouldn't stop shifting his weight as if he couldn't find a comfortable way to stand.

"Can you make it home from here?"

No answer.

"Okay then…" Warren said gruffly. "Well I'm gonna go home now. Bye." With that he turned and started walking down the sidewalk. He clenched his jaw. _Ungrateful little…stupid twerp. The second his face is healed up, I'm gonna pummel it whether he crosses me or not._

Warren froze and looked over his shoulder when he heard something crack. "Fuck." He grunted and went running back to the opening of the alleyway. He left the sidewalk and crouched down beside a facedown Will. He wasn't shaking at all, and he wasn't shivering in his breath.

Warren grasped Will's shoulder and shook it, "Stronghold?" No answer.

So he turned him over onto his back none too gracefully. There was a new cut on Will's forehead where he had hit the asphalt in the street when he'd taken one step off of the sidewalk and passed out. It was bleeding profoundly and Warren didn't feel any misshape or bumps as he carefully ran his fingertips around Will's skull.

He looked around for any possible passerby or car that might enable him to label Will as 'Not Warren's Problem'. But it was very late on a weekday. Most people were already asleep.

He looked down at Will's face, still cradling the back of his head. He tapped the back of his opposite hand against the side of Will's face. "Stronghold. C'mon. Wake up."

_No such luck…_

Warren reached up and rubbed at his eyes with a groan. He ran his palms down his face and then placed them together in front of mouth. He looked down at the beat up, unconscious boy. He glanced down at Will's Converse. One was untied. His gaze numbly traveled up Will, trying to assess the situation he was in. There were tears in the knees of his jeans where dried blood had built up. And his jeans where undone…?

Warren cocked an eyebrow. _What, these idiots pantsed him? Gimme a break…kinda self-respecting criminal… _He rolled his eyes, disappointed in the childishness of the people who had beat up Will and distraught about what he had decided to do. But he didn't have many other options. He didn't know where Will lived. He didn't want to get involved with the police. And Will had super strength, so if he was anything like his asshole father, his wounds would heal up in no time on account of his indestructability.

So Warren reached and buttoned Will's jeans and yanked the zipper up. Then he got his feet under him and pulled Will up to sit. He heard a small whimper emanate from the boy but he knew it was just pain that was bad enough for him to feel in his unconsciousness. And then Warren pulled Will up into his arms and stood.

He turned with a sigh into the night and got back up onto the sidewalk. Will's head lolled back and his arm hung and swung freely as Warren walked.

Warren shook his head as he walked down the street. How the hell did he end up in this situation? He glanced at Will's unconscious, vulnerable expression. Warren grumbled, "Fine Thursday. A fuckin' fine one indeed," and looked back to the path ahead.

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><p>Warren had to shift Will so he was hanging limply over his left shoulder. He kept his left arm wrapped around his unconscious passenger's legs to keep him from slipping off. He used his free hand to unlock the door to his house. When he heard the lock click, he turned the key back, pulled it out and stuffed it back into his pocket.<p>

He turned the knob and pushed open the door. He stepped out of the darkness of the night and into the darkness of his home. Then he shut the door behind him, and locked it. He walked down the short hallway past the closet, the bathroom and the stairs that led up.

Warren stepped across the carpet of the room. Then he leaned down slightly, cautiously slipping Will down from his shoulder, laying him onto the sofa. He leaned over and yanked the laces loose on Will's Converse and pulled them from his feet, setting them on the floor.

"Don't need bloodstains on the furniture…" Warren grumbled to himself as he turned away from the couch. Before he reentered the hallway, he flipped on one of the light switches in the living room. Two small lights lit up dimly over the window seat which sat on the right side of the room which was the front side of the house.

Warren went into the bathroom and flipped on the light. He grabbed the faucet for the hot water, turned it on and closed the drain in the sink. As he waited for the water to get warm he shrugged off his leather jacket and hung it on the coat rack beside the door in the hallway. When he returned to the bathroom the water still wasn't warm. He shook his head and grabbed a clean washcloth from the basket.

Then he turned off the running water. He submerged his hand into the water. Bubbles started to dance in the little pool of water and steam rose from the surface. He dipped the washcloth into sink and wrung it out a little bit.

He left the bathroom shaking his head, _Gotta fix that…_

Back in the living room, Warren shifted Will's legs closer to the back of the couch and sat down. He clasped Will's jaw mildly and started scrubbing off the blood that had trickled down his face and neck with the warm, wet washcloth. Warren grimaced, feeling how Will's skin was cold. He heaved a sigh and set the washcloth down on the side table. He went to the closet and yanked out an old, thick, folded up quilt that had been in the house longer than Warren could remember. He toed the few towels that had fallen to the floor back into the closet and shut the door.

Warren went back to the living room and spread the quilt over the smaller boy. He tucked it against Will's sides and made sure his feet were covered. Heaving a sigh, Warren got up from the couch. A glance at the clock on the wall said that it was 12:39am and this brought an exhausted groan from Warren.

With a final shake of his head at his houseguest, he left the living room, went back into the hallway and took off his boots next to the door. Then he climbed the nearby stairs. At the top he yawned quietly into the back of his wrist and brushed his hair back. He went past the upstairs bathroom, working his belt loose as he went. He toed open the door to his bedroom and stepped into the pitch blackness.

Once inside, he kicked off his jeans, pulled off his shirt and laid down on his bed in his boxers. The cold sheets beneath him quickly warmed from his radiating body heat. He took hold of the black fleece blanket that was bunched up against the wall and draped it over himself, allowing himself to be surrounded by a gentle cocoon of his own body heat.

_The hell am I supposed to do about that little twerp?_

His muscles relaxed and his breathing calmed. He could feel his pulse throbbing gently against the pillow. His mind starting slipping away into lucid dreams whilst he was still somewhat awake. He wasn't caught in the limbo between unconsciousness and consciousness for long however. Sleep crept through his body until it finally found his eyes, exiling his mind from awareness. Banishing the thoughts of Will Stronghold from his mind until he would awake in the morning.


	2. I'm Not

**Dear Dionosus...I am so fekking tired! I woke up at 7:51am precisely this morning, drove down to school, and then got on a bus. After that me and some of my schoolmates, two teachers and the superintendent traveled or an hour to do volunteer work for the Hurrican Irene flood victims. We picked up all kinds of stuff in the woods. I found a box of old Broadway records, a newspaper from 1985 that has articles about the mistreatment of AIDS victims...God they were so ignorant back then. We found all kinds of stuff. We dragged a lawn mower and a pinball machine filled with mud out of the woods to the side of the road with a garden hose...**

**Haha 'you know you're a redneck when' anybody? XDD **

**I also washed windows in a house that was being worked on, and oh, I ALMOST FELL THROUGH THE FLOOR! When I yanked the heel of my boot out of the floor, I was like "OH! _THAT'S_ WHY THEY HAD US SIGN WAIVERS!" Sheesh...****They served a good meal though. Those scalloped potatoes were bitchin'. **

**Here I give you another chapter of Ember In The Dark. Sorry darlings, no sex yet. Be patient though. The characters need time to develop. I wasn't going to have it this short, but I figured that it was a good place to end the chapter. Now excuse me while I go lay my exhausted body out on my bed and fall asleep with the aide of some of my lovely over the counter vitamins that help me get to sleep!**

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><p>When Will awoke, he squeezed his eyes closed and rolled to one side very slowly and sorely. He let out a small whimper. <em>It hurts…it hurts!<em>

He jumped when he heard something stomp against the floor. He winced as his form scrambled to protect itself. It hurt to move in such a way. And now he was dazed and confused. He was lying on a couch in an unfamiliar living room. It wasn't much smaller than his own living room, but instead of carpet, the floor was wood. The walls were white and empty whilst the walls of his living room were a gentle blue and peppered with photos and paintings. There was no coffee table, only a couch, two side tables and a chair.

And the chair was occupied.

His breath seized in his throat and he shrunk back into the cushions of the black couch.

Warren Peace was sitting on the edge of the chair that was off to one side of the couch. He was wearing nothing but a pair of jeans. His hair was tied back and he was yanking on his boots. A cigarette hung neatly from one side of his mouth.

Warren's dark eyes lifted and fell unfeelingly onto Will who started to tremble. Warren cocked an eyebrow at the smaller boy. He reached up and scissored the cigarette between two fingers and blew out a smooth stream of smoke.

Warren grunted, "Good morning. Better not have gotten blood on the couch." Will glanced at the black material of the couch, fingers brushing the edge of the thick, old quilt that had been spread over his body.

Warren replaced the cigarette back between his lips and took a long drag. When he spoke again, the smoke exited the edge of his mouth. "Now, listen Stronghold. I'm getting ready to go. You don't have to go home. But you _can't_ stay here."

Warren stood, picking up a black t-shirt that had been draped over the back of the chair he had been sitting in. He lifted his arms and started pulling the shirt down over his head. His abs flexed as his muscles stretched. He dragged the hem down to his waist and cocked an eyebrow at Will when he still hadn't moved.

"Well? Get the hell out of here." He growled.

Will flinched at the harsh tone, but hurriedly threw off the quilt and bit his lip in pain as he put his feet on the floor. He quickly started tying on his Converse.

Warren stood over him, dragging on his leather jacket. He was still sucking on the end of his cigarette, occasionally blowing out smoke. Will glanced worriedly up at Warren and quickened his pace.

"You're in the Eastern Suburbs. Cinder Branch Lane. I'm sure you can find your way home from here." Warren grunted, scissoring the cigarette and tapping the ashes into his fist. He looked back to see Will wincing as he got up to his feet.

Warren shook his head, _Wimp._

He slung his bag over his shoulder and pointed, "Door's that way."

Will glanced up at Warren tensely and limped down the hallway with Warren close behind. Once outside, Will squinted in the bright morning sunlight. He jumped when Warren yanked the door closed behind him, locking it and tossing the ashes from his fist.

Warren reached up and took the cigarette from his mouth and sighed, letting out a smoke stream. His eyes shifted to look into Will's. "Stop looking at me like a goddamned pound puppy." Warren snapped, shifting the strap of his bag and replacing his cigarette. He walked around Will and went toward the garage where he pulled up the door. "Fuck, I got _stabbed_ and you're making a big deal out of this. You're indestructible, get over it." He walked into the garage and grabbed the handlebars of his Harley.

Warren walked his motorcycle out of the garage and looked back at the unmoving Will. Those blue eyes were still fixed on him. Warren lowered his eyebrows, refusing to let something fall inside of him when he saw the hopelessness, and hurt in them. He scissored his cig and growled, "What the fuck are you looking at? Get out of here!"

Will winced. Warren flicked his cigarette with a shake of his head and turned away to pull the garage door back down. When Warren stood back up and turned around, he saw Will limping gingerly down the driveway. He shook his head and picked up his helmet. His eyes glanced back up curiously.

There was a dried bloodstain on the seat of Will's jeans.

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><p><em>If something like that happened, how come he didn't just fight them off? He threw me plus a lunch table across the cafeteria like a Frisbee. Guy hardly would've been able to touch his zipper. One punch sent me through a wall. Single punch woulda sent some pedo through a building, probably kill him. <em>

Warren tossed his jacket onto the empty cafeteria table, drawing the rolled up _Motorcyclist_ magazine out of his back pocket before sitting down. He unfurled it on the table before him and flipped open to the article he'd been reading the previous day while he had been in lunch. It was about the seven speed for the new Suzuki racer.

But he couldn't concentrate on it. He didn't notice that he'd read the same sentence four times. His mind just kept slipping back to the questions he had. Questions about what could have possibly happened. About Will.

He curled his lip in disgust. _Little mindfuck…_

Warren's left shoulder tensed as he felt a presence behind him. He glanced through his hair, but there was no one there. He turned his head and paused when he saw the Will had sat beside him on his right side. Will's blue eyes were downcast, and his wrists were crossed gently on the table.

He wasn't exactly sitting actually. He had his leg folded underneath him and he was raised so there wasn't any pressure whatsoever on the seat of his pants. That only confirmed Warren's wonderings.

_But how the hell could it have happened? _

"The hell do you want? No one sits here but me." Warren growled. "So get lost before I knock you across the table." He looked back to his magazine, well-aware of all of the stares that were starting to find him and his little companion. But Will still didn't move. He never looked up from the table. He just sat there solemnly, and silently.

Warren reached up and rubbed at his face. Then he grabbed his magazine, his leather jacket and got up from the table. He strode strongly through the cafeteria. Pairs of eyes everywhere shot down to their lunch trays to avoid making eye contact with him. There were a few brave pairs that would peak up from under their eyebrows but that was about it.

Warren pushed open the cafeteria doors and strode down the hallway. As he was pulling his leather jacket back on, his shoulder tensed. He could feel a presence behind him. So he glanced behind him and looked back ahead of him again. "For _fuck's_ sake." He hissed.

Will was following him, eyes downcast, and feet determined to keep at least three feet behind him as he walked. If not less.

Warren reached up and ran a hand down his face. He hoped that the smaller boy would get discouraged. Because verbal threats didn't seem to deter him. He hoped to hell that the cold shoulder would give Will a hint big enough for him to understand. Maybe even follow.

But nope. Will remained behind him at a placid, trotting pace. Even with his obvious limp. Warren lead the way down another hallway, and another until he decided to stop at his locker.

_Fuck…I need a cigarette…_

He brushed his hair back as he put the combination into his locker. He gnawed on the inside of his lip. When he got his locket open, he grabbed his water bottle and unscrewed the cap, glancing at Will.

He was standing there a few feet away. His left hand was gripping his left wrist. And his eyes were still downcast. They looked like they were watching Warren's boots actually.

When he had taken a few long swigs, Warren heaved a heavy sigh and spoke, not removing his eyes from the inside of his locker, "_Stronghold_,"

It must have been the right tone because out of the corner of his eye, he saw Will look at him, slowly and nervously. Warren turned his dark eyes upon Will, expecting him to flinch when he did. But Will didn't. Warren studied Will's big, sad, hurting blue eyes and he shook his head.

"I found you on the side of the street, and I gave you a place to sleep. That's it. That is _it_. I'm _not_ your protector. I'm _not_ your babysitter. I'm _not_ your therapist. And I'm sure as hell _not_ _your_ _friend_. If I had known you'd start following me around, last night I would have kicked you right in the kidney, and then just kept right on walking."


	3. Giving In

**Hello my darlings. I hope you're enjoying this. I am. **

**There was some confusion as to Warren's motorcycle. It was supposed to be confusing haha. But I guess I should clear that up. Warren collects bikes. The one that wasn't starting at the Lantern was a Honda. Remember he walked out of the garage with a HARLEY in tow? Haha, guess I forgot to mention that the other bike was a Honda in the previous chapters. **

**I'm glad everyone is enjoying it so far. And don't worry, I have NOT forgotten about Oxygen. **

**Enjoy my lovelies.**

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><p>Warren took his cigarette from his mouth and sighed out smoke, rubbing at his eyes. His hand ran down his face, and then rested on his knee. He was seated on the sill of his open bedroom window, one bare foot raised to rest on the ledge as well. He took a long drag from his cig. The end glowed a bright orange against the darkness. Then he leaned his head back against the dark wood window frame. He sighed out smoke again.<p>

He thought about the small boy currently sleeping on the couch downstairs in the living room. He tapped the ashes from the end of his cigarette with an annoyed grunt, ignoring them as they fell into the empty air outside his window.

The last couple of days had felt like the longest days in Warren's life.

At his locker on Friday, Warren had given Will a tongue-lashing; an education on how things were. That he was _not_ his shrink. _Not_ his guardian. And most definitely _not_ his friend.

Yet, as he was leaving his locker, Will still tagged along. Never saying a word.

Warren had sought refuge in his last few classes, which he didn't have with Will. He was somewhat irritated that he didn't have the weekly game of Save The Citizen that day. And somewhat relieved. If Friday had been the day that his half of the student body convened in the gym for Save The Citizen, it would have been with Will, and he might have been given the chance to knock the shit out of him. But he was also glad, because he was pretty sure that Will would have sat, well sort of sat, close to him in the bleachers, silent and glancing at him with those sad, dependent blue eyes.

He had even managed to avoid coming across the smaller boy on his way to the bus. His own bus ride was another chance at solace as every other student on the bus did their best to leave him the hell alone. _Especially_ since they could tell that he was pissed off.

Even after getting off of the bus and walking over to the parking lot where he parked his motorcycle everyday was isolated. He rode home on his Harley, picked up some tools and went to work with some tools to try and fix up his old Honda motorcycle which was still sitting dejectedly in the employee parking lot behind the Paper Lantern.

Miraculously, Warren had gotten it working. He had feared that the 1985 Honda had bitten the dust. It had been his first motorcycle. In fact it had been his father's first too. After Baron Battle had been captured, he'd left his possessions to his only child, seeing as he wasn't going to be having any use for them with a quadruple life sentence in solitary.

So once getting the Honda working, he rode it home, leaving his Harley there to wait for his return. He still wasn't keen on trusting the old bike yet and feared it might not make it back home. But it did, not without some sputtering though. After parking it in the garage with the intent to give it a thorough checkup over the week, he walked leisurely back to the Paper Lantern.

His day may have sucked, but it was looking up to be a fair afternoon.

He was enjoying the distractions so much, he had even ignored it when his shoulder had tensed.

Warren bumped the back of his head against the window frame, bringing his cig back up to his lips. He was berating himself for not paying more attention. _If I had, fucking Stronghold wouldn't have known where I work…_

The city may have been crowded, with the sidewalks full of people, but he felt he should have at least noticed that Will had been at his heels less than three feet back. Warren was sure that it wasn't as if Will had been trying to not be seen. He just thought it was his own stupidity.

Before entering the employee parking lot he had finally noticed him. Then he'd given Will another earful.

_Fuck's sake…_ Warren thought as he lowered his cig again, breathing smoke out of his window.

Then on Saturday during his shift, he took ten minutes away from the stoves to serve, he had seen Will sitting at a booth by himself. Grudgingly, Warren slid a bowl of white rice under Will's downcast eyes. He leaned one arm on the booth, and whispered a threat into Will's ear. "Stronghold, I swear to god, if you are still here in half an hour, I will drag you outside, beat you senseless and toss you behind the _trashcans_."

After his shift ended, there was Will again. Looking at him with those blue, dependent, and gloomy eyes. Warren had shoved him away, cursing at him, telling him to leave him the fuck alone. And he rode off on his Harley.

Then, late Sunday afternoon, he'd been working in the garage on his Honda with his hair tied back when Will had shown up again. Warren had seen him out of the corner of his eye. At first, he did his best to ignore the smaller boy who stood silently just under the opened slide-up garage door. He could feel those eyes softly watching him work.

They'd spent hours in silence. Then night had fallen and the light in the garage had been glowing in the darkness. That was when Warren had sat back and stood up. He'd gone over to the work bench, wiping his right hand off on his oil-stained gray t-shirt. He felt Will's eyes on him, watching him silently.

Warren dug a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and leaned back against the work bench, grasping a red rag in his left hand. He tapped the carton against the edge of the work bench, making a cigarette reach out of it. He enclosed his lips around it and lowered the pack, unsheathing the cigarette. He tossed the carton onto the bench and snapped his fingers, making a small flame jump from his thumb tip which he held to the end of his cig.

Once it was lit, he started wiping his hands off on the red rag. He had stood there silently, not really thinking all that much. He reached up and scissored his cigarette and blew out a smoke stream. Then he had looked over at Will.

Those blue eyes had never stopped looking so sad. So focused upon Warren. As if Warren had become the most important thing in his life. And if he took his blue eyes off of him, Warren would disappear. That was what Warren had seen in those eyes. But there was hopelessness behind them. As if he had been shunned by the rest of the world and only Warren understood him.

But Warren _didn't_ understand him. Will had just silently took all of the threats and warnings that Warren gave him over the past couple of days. In fact he hadn't heard Will speak a word at all. At any time. And yet somehow Will had managed to worm his way into Warren's life. Warren didn't understand Will at all. But maybe that was because Warren hadn't taken the time to try and listen. So after he took another drag off of his cigarette, he had sighed out smoke and said quietly, looking gently at Will, "Stronghold…tell me who raped you."

_So I can kill him for landing me with you. _He had thought. But for some reason, he instantly felt sick to his stomach for thinking that.

Will's eyes had widened slightly and had looked away from Warren. His eyebrows arched upward slightly. His lip quivered somewhat. But still no answer.

Warren had sighed quietly through his nose and scratched lightly at his temple. He took a drag off of his cig and then said, "If you can't tell me that, Stronghold…just tell me what I'm supposed to do. I don't get any of this. Hell, I don't even know how someone could do that to you. I don't know what you want. I don't know why you think you can trust me. I'm at the top of the membership list of the 'I Hate Stronghold' club."

Then Warren had paused when he saw something shine and trickle down the side of Will's face.

But still there was silence. So Warren sighed in defeat and flicked off the garage light. He stepped outside, and pulled the door closed. When he stood back up, he flicked his cigarette and then he froze.

Will had stepped close and had wrapped his arms around Warren's waist. And pressed his face against Warren's chest. He felt a shiver run through Will and heard him take in a struggling breath against his dirty t-shirt. And he had heard him whisper with a raspy voice into Warren's chest.

"_Please_…"

Warren heaved another smoky sigh from where he sat on his window sill, wondering how he had let himself get into this situation. He had halfheartedly allowed Will inside, taken aback and wondering what the hell he was supposed to do. He had told Will that he could sleep on the couch. He'd given him the quilt and then had retreated upstairs to his own bedroom.

_The hell am I supposed to do now…?_ Warren wondered.

He had never seen Will in such a way before, literally or figuratively. He seemed so weak in the body and the mind. He thought back to when he had shoved him away the previous night and he had sailed to the ground as if he'd been an ungraceful paper airplane. There had been no strength behind those muscles at all. Nothing. Not even just physical strength. Warren was used to seeing Will smiling that stupid little smile around his friends.

That smile had annoyed him so. But he found himself missing it. Because there was no uplifting emotion in Will anymore. There was just this emptiness. And this depression. This fear. Warren's hand lit up in fire and his cigarette burned to nothing but flaky ashes which he let sail into the gentle breeze of the night.

There was one thing that was keeping Will from just becoming a soulless body. And Warren realized that it was him. He, himself, had become just a thin layer netting that was keeping Will from falling into whatever crushing oblivion that had attacked him Thursday night. Attacked Will just as his attacker had. Warren shook his head and closed his window.

He sunk into his bed and closed his eyes. It took him a while to fall asleep. He was troubled. For he had become the wall that stood between Will and this darkness that threatened to break and violate Will just as his attacker had. And Warren was drowning in his thoughts, his denial and his gruffness. He didn't want such a responsibility. He didn't want to admit that he had come to feel something when those blue eyes watched him. It wasn't a big feeling, but it was enough to nag at him. He didn't want to begin to try and understand what sort of cupboard this gentleness-toward-your-enemy thing had come from.

Like he had told Will, and had tried to tell himself, he was practically the leader of the 'I Hate Stronghold' club.

As Warren slipped off into a lucid dream, he thought he heard his own voice tell himself something. He had definitely felt his lips move so he vaguely knew it was himself who had spoken. And he had said something that sounded suspiciously like, "What if it's the wrong Stronghold?"

* * *

><p>Warren rolled over in his sleep and his arm bumped into something. This was enough to bring him out of sleep slightly to wonder what the hell was in his bed. He lifted his arm, sleepily mumbling, "The hell?"<p>

But once he was comprehensive enough, he didn't wonder. _Three guesses what..._

Warren scooted back to where he had been lying on his bed and laid on his back. He grumbled tiredly, "What the fuck are you doing in my bed? Go back downstairs." He kept his hand from moving up to rub at his eyes, ignoring the fact that Will hadn't made to move at all. He didn't want to become more awake than he was. In fact, he was hoping that it was some sort of annoying dream.

But the feeling of Will's presence and silence disproved that however. God, that silence was so goddamn loud to Warren. He glanced over at his new bedmate. The moonlight shining dimly through the window haloed Will's figure. He was curled up under the thin blanket a little ways away from Warren. Those eyes were shadowed from the darkness, but Warren could see some tints of the moonlight in his eyes.

They were still so dead. Still so expectant of Warren. Still so sad.

_God…please stop looking at me like that…_ Warren thought, looking away and closing his eyes. _You're making me give in..._


	4. Cloudy Windows

**My, my, my. I'm putting out chapters faster than a two-bit hoe puts out vag...**

**This story is moving right along. I did warn you all that it'll be short. And we're getting very close to some sex. Will is getting harder and harder for Warren to get rid of...mostly because he isn't exactly trying anymore. **

**Now, my life. I got a callback for a job offer! Yay! End.**

**Haha, well here you are my wonderful, fellow sickos who find so much interest in dark and kinky themes...XDD Don't feel bad. We're all sickos on the inside, it just matters to a certain extent. Plus, I have no room to talk. I WRITE this stuff!**

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><p>Warren reached over Will and turned off the alarm clock. He paused when he saw Will's eyes sleepily open. They moved for a millisecond, quickly searching for and finding him. For a moment Warren didn't move, staring back into those shunned and reliant blues. Then he sighed quietly through his nostrils and pushed the blanket back, "C'mon. I'll take you home."<p>

He moved around Will and slipped out of his bed, wearing nothing but his jeans. He scratched at the back of his head and brushed back his long dark hair. The red streak ran through his fingers as he yawned. He yanked open a drawer in his dresser and at random yanked out a clean dark t-shirt.

Will slowly lifted himself from the bed as Warren pulled on his t-shirt. "You're gonna have to tell me where you live." Warren said, yanking the hem of his shirt down to his waist. He looked over at Will who looked to the floor. Warren sighed quietly again, looking over the small boy whom he'd shared his bed with the previous night.

Will reminded him of the boy in the old movie _Trapped In Silence_. Terrible things had happened to him, and he had just stopped talking. Never talked. Didn't talk for years. And when he finally started to try, it was so hard and painful. As if he'd forgotten how to talk, as if each noise was like hellfire in his throat. But he had had someone to help him speak again, to learn and live again…

Warren shook his head and went over to Will. He said, "Stronghold, look at me." And Will did, loyally and he looked gloomily up at Warren.

Warren said, "I've heard you say one word in all this time. You're gonna have to start talking or it'll get harder and harder. You don't have to go ahead and belt out a monologue for me. Just a little at a time. Just tell me where you live…and I'll take you home."

Will stared up at Warren. Warren thought that it was going to be his answer. But Will's lips parted slightly and he heard something breathily leave his mouth. Will's eyebrows arched upward slightly and he looked down. But Warren found himself waiting patiently.

_What the hell am I doing…? _He started to ask himself. But his thoughts were silenced when Will looked up at him again with those sad blue eyes. And he heard breathy, raspy words come from between his lips. "_White_…_Hills_…"

Warren nodded, "Good. Good." Then he gestured over his shoulder, "C'mon. You'll have to let me know which house is yours though."

And Will did. Warren had gotten him onto the back of his Harley with no trouble at all. Will had somehow come to trust him entirely. But once he was nearing this big house with a front porch in a fenced neighborhood, he felt Will tap his hand against the side of his stomach. So Warren slowed down and pulled to the right.

He braced one foot on the ground and turned slightly. He took Will's arm and helped him off the back of his bike. Will gingerly removed Warren's extra helmet from his head and Warren took it from him, strapping it to the seat behind him. Warren gave Will a nod and turned his bike around and left White Hills, glancing over his shoulder at Will who still stood there, unmoving.

Will waited until Warren was entirely off of the street and out of sight before he turned to look at his house. A shiver went down his spine and he nervously went up the path to the front door. Once there, he pressed his ear to it and listened. After that, he turned the doorknob and pushed the door open. Once inside he closed the door as quietly as he could. His heart jumped to his throat when he heard a voice call from down the hall.

"Josie! You know where my blue tie is?"

A shiver went through his ribs right down to his toes and he hurried as silently as he could upstairs.

"The one with the really weird pattern?" Called another voice from the kitchen.

"No, the one without the weird pattern! The one with the weird pattern confuses me!"

Will opened his bedroom door and practically dove inside, closing it firmly behind him. He looked around his room and rifled through his dresser for clean clothes. He changed everything right down to his boxers and secured a belt tightly around his waist. He glanced at the clock and slung his bag over his shoulder. Then he opened his door and took one step out.

And there was Steve Stronghold, smiling behind his glasses. "Oh! Hey Will! I was just coming up to,"

Will jumped with a gasp. His eyebrows arched upward in fear and he shrunk against the wall.

"check…if you were awake…uh you okay, son?"

Will shied away from his father, went around him swiftly and hurried down the stairs.

"Wait, Will! Will!"

But he didn't stop. He ran right down into the foyer.

"Hey Will. What's up?" Josie Stronghold said as she came out of the kitchen, smiling.

Will's breath seized in his throat and he went around his mother as well. "Will?"

"Will!"

He ran out the front door, down the path and then down the street. He cried out when the mailman came around a corner and shied away from him as well. When he reached the bus stop, Layla was already climbing on. Will slowed down and gripped the strap of his bag. His stomach squirmed inside of him and he swallowed to wet his dry throat.

He hadn't liked riding the bus Friday morning or afternoon. A Monday morning made no difference. He kept his eyes downcast as Ron Wilson, bus driver, smiled, nodded and offered Will a cheerful, "Morning!"

He could feel the eyes of his friends upon him as he climbed into their sight. He lifted his eyes slightly, and sure enough they were all worriedly looking in his direction. And it wasn't just Layla, Zack, Magenta and Ethan. The entire bus had eyes for him. His classmates had also picked up on his isolating behavior on Friday. Will averted his eyes quickly and placed himself in the closest seat to him and furthest away from everyone else. He squished himself against the window, hugging his bag to his chest. He couldn't help it then, but a distinct tremble started to take over him.

He was afraid. Fearful of all of the people around him. He was terrified of the seatbelts wrapping themselves over his chest once they took off into the air. He subtly squirmed against the safety belts. But he couldn't break them. He couldn't free himself until they automatically unlocked and retracted themselves once they landed on the floating island that was Sky High. Will, shaking as he did, wiggled out of the safety belts and was the first one off of the bus.

His stomach turned over and over inside of him when his eyes were confronted by the vastness of people. To keep himself from vomiting he looked down and hurried up the steps to the school to get to his first class before anyone else did, so he could be alone and choose a seat furthest away from everyone else. What he really wanted was to find Warren and stay by him.

He missed Warren's warm presence terribly. Being near him was his reassurance, his safety, the easing of his fears. He trusted him. And he was sure Warren had no idea how much Will trusted him.

* * *

><p>Warren wasn't all that surprised when Will had found his way back to him that night. It was late and his shift had just ended at the Paper Lantern. He hadn't been out of the kitchen all night because he was on cook duty, but he had had a feeling that Will was out there. And there he was, waiting.<p>

Will's eyes found Warren and Warren winced at the tiredness and helplessness swimming in his ocean eyes. He sighed quietly through his nose and went over to his Harley, feeling Will follow closely behind him. Warren unstrapped his extra helmet that he hadn't had the time to drop off at home before or after school. He had almost missed the bus before school. And he had to get to work right after school.

He turned and thrust it into Will's hands, "Here." And he turned away again to slip his own helmet onto his head. He buckled the strap under his chin and climbed onto his Harley. He took Will's arm and helped him up behind him. Then Warren brought his bike to life as he felt Will's hands hesitantly clasp the sides of his stomach.

The ride back to Warren's house was silent. He stopped at a stoplight placidly even though there was no traffic on the streets. He made the turns smoothly, determined not to frighten his passenger. _Traumatized enough as it is… _He thought to himself.

When he finally got them home, he climbed off his Harley to pull open the garage. Will had dismounted as he did and had taken off the helmet. Warren took it from him and walked his bike into the garage. After that he led Will over to the door and unlocked it.

Will jumped after he'd been ushered inside, because there was a woman there.

"Hey Warren, I hate to just eat and run as soon as you get home, but I've got two meetings to get to and oh…"

Will shied away fearfully and bumped into Warren as he did.

The woman was taller than Will but shorter than Warren. Her long, sleek black hair was neatly pulled back into a ponytail and her glowing tawny eyes stared between Will and Warren in bewilderment.

Her eyes settled upon Warren for a moment who stared seriously but dully at his mother. She made quick work of sorting out the feelings in the two boys currently in the doorway of her house. And she nodded slightly, "Oh…Well, I'll see you tomorrow, Warren. Night."

Will pressed back into Warren in fear as the woman neared him. So Warren wrapped an arm around him from behind and moved to one side to let his mom out of the house. He closed the door behind her and took his arm from Will.

He took off his leather jacket and hung it up. Then he took off his boots and heaved a tired sigh as he started up the stairs. He could feel Will following behind him instead of going to the couch. But he didn't say anything. Once in his room, Warren took off his shirt and let it drop onto the floor. He stepped out of his jeans and made himself comfortable facing the wall in his bed and lying on his side. He felt the bed dip behind him slightly, but he still said nothing.

He had come to expect it. He had seen Will in a new way and it was getting harder and harder to convince himself that he absolutely hated Will's guts. Sure, he knew he still hated the air that Will's father breathed. But he couldn't find those odious feelings he had had toward Will. And Warren knew they were fading away a little more every time he paused to look into Will's eyes. Those blue eyes were like windows, allowing Warren to see into his suffering. But they were cloudy windows. From what he'd been seeing, no one had been caring or smart enough to step forward, cup their hands around their eyes and look in. Warren was most likely the only one who knew what was going on behind the clouds overtaking those windows.

* * *

><p><em>Can't take it, Stronghold?<em>

Will was screaming behind the firm grip on his mouth, hushing and muffling him. He struggled and writhed, trying so desperately to free himself of his bonds. Of the pain. The terrible agony. His once untouched, unfeeling insides were ablaze with hurt. His stomach turned and he felt his throat burn as bile rose into his mouth.

But he couldn't spit it out. He gagged and choked. More tears rose to his eyes and blurred his vision further. He was forced to swallow it back down.

He sobbed against his gag. His struggling got weaker. His powers were failing him.

_Ha ha, don't cry little Stronghold._

There was something warm and wet dripping down between Will's thighs. The pain was growing so intense that darkness was taking over his vision. He could hardly breathe. He could hardly see. He could only feel. And what he felt hurt him so much.

The unwelcomed thrusting into his insides.

The bonds holding him in place.

The hot tears stinging his eyes.

The rawness of his screaming throat.

The breath against his ear.

* * *

><p>"Will! Will! Wake up!"<p>

Will's eyes flew open. Tears were blurring his vision and it was dark. His throat was raw. His entire body was broken out in a freezing sweat and shaking madly. He was so cold. But big, very warm hands were wrapped around his arms. They'd been shaking him. Will moved quickly so he was pressed firmly against Warren's furnace of a body.

Warren stilled as Will pressed his face into his bare chest and held onto him for dear life. He could feel how cold Will's body was, how hard he was trembling. Warren heard him draw in a raspy breath and let it out in a cracked sob.

"Jesus Christ…" He muttered, looking down at the brown hair dampened with sweat. He carefully let his arms settle around his bedmate, enclosing him in the heat of his embrace. "It's alright." Warren reassured quietly. He closed his eyes so he wouldn't be able to see into Will's eyes if they looked up into his. He wasn't sure he wanted to see what was happening through the glass of those blue windows. _I'm in so deep…_


	5. I'm Scared

**Darlings of mine...I am so sorry that this chapter is so short. I did warn you all that it's going to be a short fic...but I seem to be dragging it out XDD It takes time for these things to develop ya know! I mean think about it, I'm taking two straight characters, molding them slightly, and staying true to who they are the whole time! You think that Warren would have all of a sudden just have started fucking the boy that he hated so goddamn much? And Will nearly wees his pants everytime he passes Warren! **

**They're characters! -sniffle- Not animals! Yeah I know that was bad...**

**I hope that everyone got to make two wishes! 11/11/11! 11:11AM. And at 11:11PM! I only got to make a wish in the AM. I was too busy weaving this little chapter together and chat chitting it up with my best friend Toast to realize that we had missed 11:11PM...Oh well. Maybe the earth will be alive in 3011 and I'll be in another life or something and I'll get another two wishes XDD **

**I know you guys are gonna be upset with the way I ended this chapter...Sorry in advance. But you guys should know me by now. Most of you have read Oxygen. Even a few of you have read Clandestine. I've got a thing for cliffhangers...**

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><p>Warren grumbled quietly, his arm reaching over to his bedside table. His fist slammed down onto the snooze button, silencing the aggravating beeping. His thumb flicked across the switch and turned the alarm off. After a moment of stillness, he reached up and rubbed at his eyes. His other arm was wrapped around a motionless, silent Will.<p>

He looked down and found Will cuddled up to his side with his head settled against his collarbone. Those blue eyes looked up at him, quiet and dependent. Warren sighed quietly through his nose. Then he disentangled himself from Will, and got out of his bed. Will followed suit. Both boys had slept in the t-shirt and boxers that they'd worn the previous day.

Warren led the way placidly down the stairs and into the kitchen where he went to the fridge. Will silently took a seat at the island, his hands gently twining and untwining themselves. Warren came out of the fridge with a carton of orange juice. He took two glasses down from the cupboard and filled them a little over halfway. He set the carton on the counter and turned around to the island, sliding one of the orange juices across to Will.

Warren studied his house guest as he silently and timidly drank from the orange juice he had given him, keeping his eyes downcast. As he drank from his own orange juice, he thought about the past week and a half. Will had managed to become his companion. A silent, broken companion but a companion nevertheless.

It had been Monday night of last week that Warren had shaken Will awake, releasing him from the terror that had had him screaming and writhing in his sleep. Monday night when he'd simply allowed himself to allow Will to cling to him and sob into his chest. Monday night when he'd allowed his arms to wrap themselves around Will, and comfort him.

The next morning, Tuesday, he'd woken up earlier and brought Will home, then caught the bus himself. At school, he found Will trotting alongside him every chance he got. Sitting silently with him at lunch while people all around them stared. Eventually though, Warren had gotten tired of the stares and left to go read at the bottom of the steps in his spot outside. Will had accompanied him.

And that Tuesday night, he'd found himself riding home from work with Will on the back of his motorcycle again. Again found himself sharing his bed with him. And again found himself waking up to Will's night terrors which he soothed by wrapping Will up in his arms.

It had practically become ritual. Something that Warren had come to expect, or at least not be surprised by. The only thing that had changed was after the Thursday night terror, Warren had started to instantly wrap Will up in his arms to protect him against the horror of his dreams. And it worked.

It was Wednesday, a week and about a half since that Monday now, and every night Will had found his way to Warren's house either by the back of his motorcycle or by walking. And Will had found himself cocooned in Warren's arms every night, and had slept sounder than a young, young child.

And for a week and a half, Warren hadn't gotten Will to speak again. No matter what he did or said. It was unsettling. And he hadn't forgotten the way Will would shy away from _everyone_. Everyone but him.

Warren set down his orange juice, "Will,"

Something jumped in his house guest, and his eyes swiftly found their way to Warren's. At first, Warren didn't understand the sudden gesture, the sudden curiosity in his eyes that were still littered with the pain of his past and the dependence. But he quickly realized the reason. He had just called him Will…for the first time ever.

Warren sighed quietly, "I think you should try sitting with your friends in lunch today." His heart fell when he saw the fear in Will's eyes that had suddenly left his and looked down. "I think you should try speaking to them. Just try." Warren hated himself now. His words were making Will look like a kicked, tortured puppy. But he had to keep going. He had tried with all the comfort that he didn't even know he had to free Will of the prison inside of his mind. He had to free Will, relieve him of all of this pain, bring him back to the world.

"I think you should try staying home tonight. Sleeping there."

And he heard a rasp come from Will's moving lips. He leaned forward, as Will swallowed, trying to speak. He went around the island to be closer to him. He placed his hands upon Will's arms comfortingly, waiting with bated breath to hear him talk.

"_I_…_mm_…" He whispered. He lowered his head, swallowing, his hands lifting up to rest on Warren's chest. He looked up at him again and Warren's hand slid up to the side of Will's face to brush the tear that had slipped from the corner of his eye.

"_I'm_…_I'm_…" Will rasped in a whisper, a shudder running through his body. "…_s_…_scared_…"

Warren started shaking his head, "No,"

"_S_…_scared_…" Will breathed, tears filling his eyes.

Warren's other hand slid from Will's arm and he cupped his face in between his palms, "Will, listen, you,"

"_I'm scared_…"

Warren shook his head. And he kissed him…


	6. Don't Be

**Black Friday is OVER...Ya know, I actually didn't wanna go after my shift ended at Target...it's weird I actually enjoy my job...I think it's just the BOOP when I scan an item in XDD It's not my career choice but it's a way to make some money for a couple months while I'm still in school. I can't wait for the big Christmas spirit to hit me. I love Christmas. I sang Dreidal with a Jewish lady today, got glitter ALL over my conveyer, which I clapped into my hands and sprinkled all over myself so I was sparkly griped about how pajama bottoms for ladies don't have pockets like men's pajama bottoms wit two Brooklyn women, got told a story by a middle aged couple who broke their son's champagne glasses from their wedding and went out to purchase some exactly like them so their son and daughter in law will never know, and I almost got punched in the face by a nasty lady who got bent out of shape because a sign wasn't right and she didn't get a discount.**

**Then once January comes around, I'll get laid off, and be off searching for another job. Ah well...**

**It took me a while to finish this chapter. For one, my laptop harddrive crashed...I had to take it to the Geek Squad. Now it's all better ^_^ and I'm back on the story writing market! YAY! It's about 3:46am right now and I'm pretty tired. I think I'm gonna finish this episode of Queer As Folk and GO...TO...BED...**

**Hehehe, after all I deserve it after a 9 to 5 day! Workin' 9 to 5, what a way ta make a livin'. Barely, get-tin by. It's all takin' an' no givin'. It's enough to drive you, crazy if ya let it! Workin', nine-to-five YEAH! XDDD **

**For the record, I sang that song all day long, and this chapter contains sex. Just thought I'd let you know that.**

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><p>Warren turned away, removing his hands from Will's face. He turned away and left the living room, leaving Will standing there in silence. Warren went up the stairs and into his bedroom. He crouched down to the floor, and fumbled through the pockets of the jeans he'd carelessly dropped on the floor the previous night. He yanked the pack of cigarettes out of the back pocket with shaking hands.<p>

He struggled to get a cig from the carton with his trembling fingers. When he finally did he put it between his lips. He had to try twice to snap his fingers, to bring the flame to the tip of his thumb. When he did, he attempted to keep his cig still between his quivering lips with his other hand.

But then Will sunk down to his knees in front of him.

His timid hands softly rested upon Warren's. The flame went out as his chilled skin touched Warren's warm hands. Very gently he pressed them downward, away from Warren's mouth.

Warren wearily looked Will's eyes. He tried lowering his brow and freeing his hands. How could he have let himself get pulled in so deep, so fucking close? But his body didn't move the way he told it to. The fire in his heart smoldered as it beat in his chest.

Those blue eyes, bluer than the ocean and most likely deeper than it, bore into him. There were no tears. They were still sad and quiet though. Not sad in the way they were a few moments ago, but more so sad for Warren. Concerned. Maybe guilty too, as if he'd done something wrong. And not quiet in the way they were before, but more so…_cautious_.

Warren's eyebrows did lower slightly then, but more so out of concentration.

Will's eyes casted downward and Warren felt his cig slip from between his fingers. Will looked to the side as he set the cigarette on the floor away from them. And his blue eyes looked back to Warren's.

Light eyes stared into dark, and dark into light for a long time. In the process Will had managed to scoot closer to Warren, closer to the set jaw and the hard gaze. His hands drifted quietly through the space between them, struggling to find the courage to set upon Warren. They did eventually find a resting place upon Warren's shoulders.

Will scooted yet closer, slowly and cautiously leaning up to Warren's face. His blue eyes drifted closed. Warren's head leaned back twice a little, hesitant, and perhaps afraid…

Their breath crossed one another and Warren leaned forward ever so slightly, finally allowing Will's lips to press to his.

He felt Will's hands fist the shoulders of his t-shirt as his own hands wrapped themselves around him, pulling him into his chest. He heard Will make a little noise in his throat and he felt him flinch in his arms.

Coming slightly to reality, Warren broke the kiss, and tried unwrapping his arms from around the smaller boy. He couldn't let Will feel constricted, or trapped. He couldn't do this. Giving him a repeat of his rape wasn't going to help him.

However, Will didn't seem to share Warren's opinion. He encircled his arms around Warren's neck, shaking his head a little. "_No_…_please_…" He breathed against Warren's lips. "_Don't_…" Warren hated how Will's voice quivered with a fear of abandonment. He hated how Will's skin felt cold. How there was no super strength to his grip anymore. How his voice was so weak, it was hardly a raspy exhale.

…_Whoever left you like this…I'll kill them…_

His fingers tenderly slid through Will's hair, brushing it back. He held the back of his head steadily against his palm. With his other arm curled around Will's body, he pulled him in against his chest. And he kissed him.

Warren didn't know what hit him. He'd never known himself to be so gentle even while fire was pulsing through his veins. Lusting.

He tilted Will's head the other way and gathered his lower into his mouth. He grazed his teeth softly against it. He shifted so that his knees were resting on the floor. No sooner than when he did that, Will was moving even closer. Settling right in his lap.

Part of him felt guilty that Will could now feel how hard he was…he never wanted to be compared to Will's attacker. And a hard-on pressing up against Will's backside was _not_ fucking pacifying his worries.

But Will's sigh and shiver eased his fears.

The arms encircling Warren's neck slowly tightened, and he could almost feel Will's racing heartbeat. He hadn't seen life like this in Will for a long time. Actually, he'd never seen life like this in Will because previously he'd never been this close. He groaned in his throat when he felt Will's cool tongue press against his lips. He didn't mind that Will didn't entirely know what he was doing. But he followed Warren's lead well and found a rhythm after a short while.

Eventually, Warren hooked his hands under Will's knees which had been hugging his hips. And he stood with Will clinging to him. He brushed his tongue against the roof of Will's mouth and then traced his taste buds.

He took a few steps across the room and pressed his knee into the mattress of his bed. He scooted securely across the blanket and leaned down so Will's back was pressed against the mattress and he loomed over him.

Will's blue eyes were wrought with need as they looked up into Warren's. His hands clenched the shoulder blades of Warren's t-shirt and pulled it up over his head. Warren willingly shrugged out of his shirt, leaning down to resume the kiss. He drew Will's tongue into his mouth and sucked thoroughly on it. He felt Will squirm slightly underneath him and he broke the kiss quickly, leaning back away from him.

He was expecting Will to somehow back out of what they were doing. He absolutely was sure that this was too much for his small companion. It was nearly too much for Warren to comprehend himself. And the last thing he wanted to do was frighten Will, make him relive what had happened to him.

But Will wasn't backing out. In fact, he seemed to be jumping in headfirst with extreme enthusiasm. This was because as he lay beneath Warren, he'd yanked his shirt off, and shifted his boxers down to his ankles. And then kicked them off, revealing his small, thin body in its entirety. Entirely aroused.

Now he laid under entirely naked, body and emotions under Warren. He reached cautiously up toward Warren, and his soft hands touched his face. Warren stared into Will's eyes, swearing to himself that they were speaking to him.

Will's left hand slipped under Warren's hair, to the back of his neck and pulled him downward. Warren's hair tickled either side of Will's face. His lips warmed his lips with a gentle heat. His tongue massaged against Will's. And Will's hands had fisted the thighs of Warren's boxers.

Warren turned his head and leaned into Will's neck.

A hoarse gasp sounded and he felt Will shudder as Warren worshipped his throat. He ran his warm tongue up his jugular vein to where his pulse throbbed. Will turned his head, letting out a quiet sigh. Warren felt Will swallow hard beneath his mouth. As he softy nipped the nape of his neck, Will tugged on Warren's boxers.

"_I_…_I want_…"

Warren lifted his head and looked directly into Will's eyes. They were ravenous, desperate, pleading.

"…_you_…" Will breathed.

Warren shook his head and murmured, "I…I don't want to hurt you."

He swallowed and spoke again, "_Please_…_I_…_want you_…"

Warren let out a harsh breath, sharpened by his teeth. He captured Will's lips. Prolonged the moments where he grazed his teeth softly across them. Prolonged an amazing dance between their tongues. Gasped for air when neither could breathe well enough through their nostrils.

"_Please_…" Will rasped, his hands slowly pulling Warren's boxers down his thighs. "_I need_…_you_…"

"I'm scared that I'll…that I'll hurt you."

"…_Don't be_…"

Warren hissed when his erect penis was freed. He closed his eyes and pressed his forehead down against Will's. Whoever had done this to Will…Warren could feel that Will didn't want it to stay that way. Warren had no idea why or how, but Will had squirmed into his life, and trusted him even when he'd tried pushing him away. Will needed Warren to be alive again. To help him. Heal him. Love him…

All of these things wouldn't physically take away what whoever it was did…but emotionally, all of those things would sum up and cancel out the pain that his attacker had caused him.

Will's hands touched his chest and his lips pressed up against Warren's.

"Okay," Warren whispered.

Will sighed quietly. His hands traveled back up his chest to cup his face again. He stroked a thumb against Warren's cheekbone. "I promise…I'll be gentle. I don't want to…hurt you." Warren said.

Will shook his head, running his fingers through Warren's long dark hair. He brushed the red streak back and kissed him. "_You won't_…"

Warren reached over to the nightstand and pulled open the drawer. He didn't care how hard either of them were. If he was going to do this, he was going to do it slowly. And with the upmost gentleness and care.

He grabbed the bottle of lube and slicked up his fingers, gently guiding Will's legs apart. He'd noticed the rise in Will when he had paid strict attention to the throbbing vein in his neck so he leaned down. His tongue ran up the vein and he nipped Will's pulse, eliciting a gasp from the smaller boy.

Warren felt Will flinch under him slightly when his fingers started to slowly draw circles around his entrance. He murmured, "It's okay. Take a deep breath and let it out slow." He was determined beyond hell to eliminate any kind of discomfort. To abolish any degree of pain. Will obediently drew in a deep, steady breath. Warren wasn't going to let the fact that no matter what he did there would be discomfort and pain for Will deter him from his crusade to demolish it all. If he couldn't rid Will of it, he'd mask it. And Will slowly exhaled just as Warren had told him to.

Then Warren sucked on Will's pulse, and took his erection into his free hand, making Will cry out and shudder. Nearly at the same time he started slowly pressing a finger into Will. Warren grazed his teeth across Will's skin, drawing urgent shudders and cries from him.

Warren was thoroughly impressed with himself when he had two fingers buried in Will's inside and not one flinch or sound of pain from Will. He was impressed with Will as well. He could feel the smaller boys naked muscles tensed all over his body as he leaned into his strokes, nips, bites and licks. His insides were heated and tight, but yet, not a single bit tensed.

_You must want this, _need_ this…so fucking bad…_

Will's hands lifted from where they'd been fisted in the sheets and gripped Warren's back. He gasped when Warren's next stroke landed him caressing the soft head of his penis. His head turned the other way and Warren put his mouth to work on the untouched side of his neck.

He drew his two fingers from Will's insides and carefully pressed three back in. He latched his teeth onto a patch of the sensitive skin of Will's neck and sucked thoroughly on it. And then Will jumped, arched his back and yelled out.

Warren froze, "_Shit_."

He lifted his head and looked to Will's face, "I'm so _sorry_. I,"

But Will's eyes were nearly rolled back into his head and his panting was even more rugged. His words were barely more than a whisper. "…_Please_…_Oh God_…_please_…"

Warren realized that he hadn't pained Will by a milestone. He'd found the sweet spot. So he eased on the steady jerking-Will-off thing and watched carefully as he allowed Will to feel what he'd previously been trying to distract him from. He moved his fingers around slightly and he felt Will jump beneath him again, crying out, his hands clasping the muscles in his back.

Warren watched Will swallow and then look up at him. It was as that gaze had sent a shock from his eyes, through his fiery blood and right to his aching, untouched erection. Warren leaned down and captured Will's lips, inhaling deeply through his nostrils as he did. Will followed his lead with attentive enthusiasm. Their twisted with one another and Will gasped into his mouth.

Warren realized that Will was pressing down onto his fingers. Needing. Desperate. Frustrated. He didn't want to just do it too soon, but he'd spent a long amount of time making sure this wouldn't be anything like what Will's attacker had done to him. He'd stab himself first before hurting Will.

However, he succumbed to Will's need and withdrew his fingers. This elicited a disappointed sigh from Will. So Warren brushed back Will's brown hair and gently drew Will's top lip into his mouth, sucking on it lightly.

He palmed more lube and slicked his erection. Then he lifted Will's legs to his sides, and Will hugged his waist with his knees. And dear God Warren held back with all his might as he slowly pressed into Will, shuddering as he did. Will whimpered…

Warren stilled, looking urgently to Will's face. It wasn't taut or pained by far. His eyebrows were arched upward slightly, his lips parted a little and his eyes were placidly closed. And seeing as Warren had stopped, Will was scooting down, impaling himself, moaning as he did.

Warren hung his head and bit out a groan. He could hardly keep himself from just thrusting into his tightness, his warmth. Will's arms locked around him, fingertips scratching slightly at Warren's back as he slowly buried himself to the hilt. Will was nearly hyperventilating.

Warren bit his lip and carefully started to pull back. Will's hands slipped up and down Warren's back, having a hard time deciding where it would be easiest to hold on. He let out a shuddering moan as Warren filled him again.

Warren held himself back as long as he thought was possible. He kissed Will with the upmost tenderness and heat. He tried so hard to keep himself in check. But Will was going to be the death of him. He was shifting, meeting his thrusts, wrapping his legs around his waist and locking his ankles behind him, running his fingers through his hair, and _mewling_.

So Warren very steadily started to let himself go. Very gradually and a little bit at a time he gave his body control. Will gasped as the thrusting picked up speed and intensity. His body shifted up and down with Warren's thrusts, not meeting them but being moved by them.

Warren leaned down and drew Will's lower lip into his mouth, growling in his throat. Will yelled out, arching his back and digging his nails into Warren's shoulders, making him hiss. Warren tilted his hips slightly so his next thrust would meet the same mark. The result was an illicit, grunting moan, and Will pressing his face into Warren's shoulder.

The fire raged through Warren's veins. It pressed down on his body with the force of a raging tsunami, crushing down on him. Will was stiffening beneath him, crying out against his shoulder, moaning against his neck, gasping into the air. Christ, he was driving into him as hard as he almost could. Will's muscles were so tensed beneath him, he was trembling.

His ears perked when he heard Will's breath quickening considerably, his arms locking harder around him, his thighs clenching against his bare sides. So he lowered his body, giving each thrust more drive, more power.

And then he leaned down to silence Will's scream of ecstasy and release with his lips. It only muffled it, and the noise in his throat dragged Warren off the edge of a canyon cliff and dropped him down on top of Will. He felt Will's come on his chest now, and he didn't give a flying fuck.

He pulled Will in close as either of them panted in complete exhaustion. Trying to comprehend whether or not he had hurt him. Trying to ease his worries. Trying to ease his own pain.

But Will attempted to kiss him, and that reassured him. Warren brushed Will's damp hair back and pressed his forehead against Will's with an exhausted sigh. He lifted his hips from Will's and pulled himself from Will's insides. Will grunted at the exit and let out an exhausted sigh himself.

With his last bit of energy, Warren took Will's biceps into his big hands and turned over onto his back, pulling Will with him so he rested upon his chest. He pressed a kiss to Will's hair. His skin didn't feel cold anymore. His eyes weren't afraid and sad. He embraced Will in his strong arms and closed his eyes.

"…_I think_…" Will started but his voice faded away. Warren opened his eyes and looked down at Will as he cleared his throat, swallowed and licked his lips. "I think," Will started again, clear and no longer a rasp. "we missed the bus…"

Warren smirked and chuckled quietly. He leaned his head close and kissed Will deeply, tenderly massaging his tongue against Will's. His hands stroked up and down Will's back. When their lips parted Warren let their breath mingle quietly. Then he laid his head back down upon his pillow. Will's head rested against Warren's collarbone.

Warren closed his eyes, calmed by Will being securely in his arms. Exhausted by the vigorous sex. And relaxed by the small sound of Will's steady, sleep breathing.

_Don't be scared…_

Warren wasn't exactly sure if he was mentally speaking to Will…or himself.


	7. Truth Revealed

**The end is nigh my little sicko minions! Not in this chapter but either the next one or the one after that! ^_^**

**I so apologize for taking my sweet-ass time updating to you all, and also the girl who sent me the request to write this story. Dear Loveless fangirl, I'm sorry it took so long honey. But I've ust honestly been busy haha. I'm sure a few of you are also Oxygen readers, so you'd know that my brother nearly died in a car accident and I was recently laid off from my seasonal employment at Target XDD **

**Ah well, end of my little talk about MY life. Let's get back to Warren and Will's shall we?**

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><p>"I got work so I won't be home. But if you need me, I'll be at the Lantern, okay?" Warren promised Will as he helped him off of the back of his bike. Will nodded and looked toward his house as he unstrapped Warren's extra helmet from his head. Steve Stronghold had come out of the house and was standing with a hand on the railing on the porch. He looked out to his son, most likely having gotten a call or something that Will hadn't been at school today.<p>

Josie Stronghold came out to join him and looked worriedly out to where Will was handing Warren's helmet back. Steve wrapped a comforting arm around her waist as she stood beside him. Will looked across the yard at them and looked back to Warren who asked behind the dark shade of his helmet, "Are you going to talk to them?"

Will licked his lips and looked back at his silent, worrying, waiting parents. "Yeah…They've been pretty worried about me lately."

"What about her?" Warren inquired, nodding his head toward Layla's house. Will looked and saw Layla exit her house, walk under the patio and onto the stepping stone pathway barefoot. She paused, looking worriedly out at Will.

Will opened his mouth to speak and then quieted when he saw Magenta, Zack and Ethan come out after her. They all looked out to him.

Will licked his lips and smiled lightly with a shudder. Warren touched his arm when he saw a few tears slip from the corners of his eyes. "Y-yeah…No…I don't know."

"Hey. Look at me," Warren said, behind his helmet.

Will did, and stepped close to him. "Those are your parents. And those are your best friends. They're the ones that're gonna support you, care for you and love you the most. Probably more than I could. I want you to be strong, Will. Because they're only gonna make you stronger here."

Will nodded as Warren spoke and murmured quietly, "They deserve an explanation."

Warren nodded, "Yes they do." He glanced toward Will's parents who still stood on the porch, watching them. He glanced over at Will's friends and asked, "Do you want me around? I could see if I could get someone to cover my shift,"

Will shook his head, "No, no. You've done enough for the past week and a half. It's…It's time for me to stand on my own two feet again for a little while. I don't want to get you in trouble with your boss…she seems kinda mean…"

Warren shrugged, "She can be. But, give me a call okay? Come see me if you need me." Will nodded and then turned toward his house. Then he started taking cautious even strides across the grass toward his parents. Warren watched him gesture with his head to his friends. They eagerly followed after him, casting a few glances Warren's way.

Warren was going to be late so he strapped down Will's helmet, turned his bike around and gunned down the street. He bit his lip under his helmet. _Maybe he'll tell all of them who it was…Maybe that'd be best. They all have a lot more self-control than I do…if he told me first I would've found this guy…and killed him… _

Steve Stronghold's fists clenched and he ran a hand down his face. He couldn't believe this had happened to his only son, and he'd had no idea. He felt so angry with himself. He even felt a little angry with this Warren Peace. Maybe it was jealousy. Jealousy that Warren Peace had been the one to find his boy and had taken care of him for the better part of two weeks. He felt inadequate as a father, having not been able to take care of his wounded, hurt, traumatized son. Jealousy that Warren Peace had been the one that Will had relied on.

But at the same time, he was grateful to him, impressed by him. He had known that Baron Battle had had a son. Warren had been there when Steve had apprehended Battle, fought him in a final stand off and came out the victor, putting Battle away for several lifetimes. He'd seen the boy as a young child, only a few years older than his son at the time. He remembered the tears staining the young boys face, and the hatred in those dark eyes when he looked at him.

He had feared that this young boy would grow up to be just like his father. Like father like son and all that. But it appeared that it was different in this case. He'd have to meet with Warren sometime, thank him, learn to know him, especially since his boy had the fondest and most glimmering look in his eyes when he spoke about him.

Steve Stronghold looked back into the living room where his boy sat, being fussed over by his wife, comforted by his closest friends whom he had come to find out had been alienated as well during this entire ordeal. Come to think of it, it had been them who had come to him this Wednesday afternoon after school. Explained how Will hadn't spoken to either of them for the longest time. How he had been silently tagging along with Warren Peace, and shying away from everyone else. No one had known what to make of it. In fact, for a little while, Steve had been worried that this Warren Peace had been the cause of the problems.

But no. Will had cleared everything up with his story, his explanations. However he had left out one thing…

He stepped across the carpet, and knelt down to be eye level with his son. "Will…I'm here for you, and I always will be. I want to help you, but…in order for me to do that well enough that you deserve…I need you to…tell me…"

Will's warm, comforted smile faded, and he seemed to shrink away inside of himself. Steve shook his head and gently touched Will's arms, determined to not let his son slip away again. "Will, please…I need you to tell me…who it was."

I was killing myself with tension. What the hell was going on over in White Hills with Will and his family? His friends? Did Stronghold Senior already have a platoon out looking for that son of a bitch who'd done this to Will? Did Will even have the courage to say? Was Will on his way to the Paper Lantern right now?

Shu shoved plates into his hands, balanced some on his forearms and instructed him to take them out to table eleven, and get his big punk head out of the clouds.

Silently he left the ruckus of the kitchen, and walked out amongst the loads of guests who were laughing, eating, waiting for their food, having loud obnoxious conversations. It made Warren set his jaw, _I hate happy people…_

He dodged around some ass that had jumped from his booth, disregarding Warren with an annoyed look. But Warren glared fiery daggers at the guy, making him shy away and scoot quickly to the bathrooms.

When he got to table eleven, he slid all of the plates onto the table with practiced ease.

"Well, look who it is, Speed! It's fucking Warren Peace!"

Warren lifted his eyes. It was that rubbery idiot Lash and the chubby chump Speed from school. He merely cocked an eyebrow at the skinny, striped-sleeve wearing dope. Lash smiled widely, "Well, look at that, Speed. Big, bad Warren Peace is servin' us dinner."

Lash smirked and Speed chuckled.

"You workin' with the Chinks?" Speed asked.

"Didn't know you speak Chinese,"

"Well he's Indian lookin', and technically Indians are Asian."

"How'd that work out? Land bridge thing back in the Ice Age?"

"Yeah somethin' like that,"

Warren was already walking away. He rolled his eyes. He didn't have the concentration or care to deal with those two bully-villain wannabes. They had no room to speak to him anyways. He remembered a time when they'd tried to rough him up a little as a freshman and he had kicked their asses all over the place and singed off their eyebrows.

It was becoming a pretty long night for Warren. Every other moment he looked at the clock to see how much longer it was until he got off. He was tired as hell. He'd drank about seven bottles of water to keep his dry mouth wet. That eventually led him into the path of leaving the kitchen to go to the bathroom. He slipped around someone who was coming out of the lady's room to get to the men's room. He pressed the door open.

"No, listen, I'm fuckin' telling you, Stronghold likes it rough."

Warren froze.

"Lash, you weird me out sometimes."

"Says the one who laughed his ass off after I caught up with him and told him the whole story."

"Because I was drunk off my ass and I thought it was gonna be the end of it. But you keep talking about it. Sure, I'm happy for you that you made Pain believe you were evil and fucked up enough to join up, but shut up."

"I'm just saying is all. You have no clue, man. _Tightest_ fuck I've ever had in my life. He kicked and cried but I could tell he liked it."

"Yeah, yeah I get it, Stronghold likes it rough. Whatever."

"It's probably why the little runt's been following Peace around all the time. Peace probably gives it to him harder than I could. I'll have to corner Stronghold sometime, ask him who was better. Maybe give him another round."

"Now you're _really_ starting to sound like a rapist."

Warren's jaw might have been wired shut from how tightly he was clenching it. His hands fisted themselves and he shoved the door open hard enough for it to put a dent in the wall behind it.

Speed and Lash jumped and whirled around from where they'd been standing at the sinks, about to share a cigarette. Flames extended from Warren's pores in areas all up his arms and his shoulders where they licked at the cords in his neck. There was fire in his black hole glare and his head was tilted downward slightly.

His eyes moved slightly to Speed whose mouth had fallen open, dropping the unlit cigarette to the floor. His voice was low, quiet and laced with white hot, blazing anger, "Get out."

Speed glanced at Lash who gave him a wide-eyed look. Begging him silently not to leave him there. But Speed turned away and winded past Warren, the door closing behind him.

Lash looked fearfully to Warren who turned his glare back to him. His heart was racing, he was afraid. There was no way out except for the door that Warren had just locked, never removing his fiery eyes from Lash.

"So, you're the one…" Warren growled. He tilted his head, stepping closer, making Lash swallow and move his hands behind him to brace himself on the sink. "I get it…how you did it…"

Warren stepped even closer. "You just used your powers…wrapped around him like a snake…bound him so he couldn't escape…attached yourself to him like a parasite…"

Lash licked his lips, "We're in a public place, Peace. Someone's gonna get pissed off that they can't get in the men's room."

Warren tilted his head the other way, fire blooming in his palms, red and raging.

"Think about it. You can't do anything to me here."

The red flames seeped from Warren's nerves, surrounding his bare arms like fiery sleeves to his dark shirt.

Warren hardly heard the click through the terrible sound of his angry, fiery blood pounding in his ears. But his reflexes moved when Lash sprang toward him with a switchblade in his fist.

Warren's flaming hand closed around Lash's throat and gave a single cough, sending blood out of his mouth and down his chin. He ground his teeth, ignoring the spiking pain in the right side of his chest where the blade of Lash's switchblade had buried itself into his lung. Warren tightened his grasp around Lash's throat, and watched him gasp and choke, unable to breathe, but screaming at the same time.

Lash grabbed at his flaming wrist, face contorting with pain of the fire and the inability to draw in oxygen. Warren clasped Lash's throat with his other hand as well, tautening his grip as much as he possibly could. The hand still fisted around the switchblade moved. Lash gagged and gasped, desperate for air.

Warren was breathing blood, hardly able to breathe clearly himself as blood stained his lips. He ground his bloodied teeth when Lash yanked the blade from his lung, and yelled out in pain when Lash stabbed it into his stomach.

But Warren held fast, slowly sinking down to the floor, watching Lash's eyes roll upward into his head. Warren coughed, spattering blood onto his clamped hands, eyes ever-watching, never leaving Lash's face. Beneath his flaming palms, he could feel Lash's weakening pulse as his struggling faded. Warren intently watched Lash's eyes as they looked into his.

With one last ditch effort to get Warren to release him, Lash jerked his arm, dragging the blade of his switchblade through Warren's stomach. Warren gritted his teeth, biting back the yell of agony. Lash could feel the burning heat of Warren's blood spilling onto him. He could feel how light his head was becoming. He could see Warren's glaring expression, stained with blood. And then things started to fade away.

Warren watched Lash's eyes close, felt the hand on the knife slip and let go, bringing the blade from his innards. He tightened his grip briefly before shoving his limp body away from him where the back of his head hit the pipe beneath one of the sinks and slumped to the floor. Warren stared tiredly at the blood that stained the curve of the pipe. He scooted back and leaned back against the stalls. He gave a weak cough, sending blood out onto the front of his dark shirt.

He drew in a ragged, choking breath and sighed out blood. He closed his eyes tightly, feeling the agony of the sharp, cold pain spreading through his body as he continued to lose blood. He gritted his teeth and flames unfurled from the openings cut into his chest and his abdomen. But the comforting heat contrasted with the horrible cold hurt and made him scream out as he tried to cauterize his own lacerations.

The smell of blood became scentless to him. And the taste of it on his tongue seemed to dissolve. The frolic of the restaurant just outside the locked door quieted. The bathroom darkened around him. Darkened to a freezing cold black as his eyes heavily sunk closed.


	8. Battle

**WOW-you-guys-are-pissed-at-me! O_o**

**Everyone's "NOOO! DON'T KILL WARREN! AHH!" and "DON'T DIE WARREN!" and "Okay. There are cliffies and then there are CLIFFIES!" **

**Like I said, the ending is coming very soon. Not the end of this chapter. Maybe the next or the one after that. Haha I know I said that last time! But I had to end this chapter here tonight. I started it tonight and just stopped like "Why not give them another cliffie? hehehehe..."**

**But I hope everyone finds interest in my writing. No matter how tragic I get. Or inclined to use cliffies...hehehehe.**

* * *

><p>Steve Stronghold reached up to rub at his eyes as the elevator descended. One of the three guards dressed in black that were sharing the elevator with him asked, "You alright, Commander?"<p>

The guard with dark hair and tanned skin behind him snorted and retorted in a Brooklyn accent, "M'sure he's just fine. Just goin' down to visit his archenemy. Tha's all."

"Both of you shut up and show a little respect." The one by the buttons growled.

Steve lowered his gloved hands from his face and looked at the guard that had asked if he was okay. He gave a slight, silent and weary nod to the young man. He had blonde hair, pale skin and he had eyes clear and blue like ocean water, lapping at the whites of his eyes like actual water. Without a doubt Steve knew this kid had the water element inside of him. To be a guard here, he had to have an enormous amount of power and an even bigger control over it.

The guard by the buttons caught Steve's attention. "You'll have to excuse the chooch and the rookie, Commander."

"It's no problem, Concussion." Steve said to the man he'd known for a considerable amount of time. Right out of Sky High he'd gone into special training and now was Head of the department that contained, guarded and controlled the worst super villain the world had ever known. Steve had respect for him. And the fact that Concussion was willing to let Steve go through with this said a lot about his character.

The elevator stilled and three sets of thick steel doors opened into a hallway that was lined with cameras. They watched The Commander and the three guards as they moved composedly down the hallway.

They made a left turn halfway down the hallway and at the end of another hallway stood two guards, watching them with careful, stern eyes.

Concussion held out a hand and pressed the fingers of his opposite hand to his ear. He looked at Steve and nodded, "He's ready to see you. C'mon Vortex." The Brooklyn guard smirked and adjusted his belt. The ocean-eyed guard looked to the floor. But Concussion looked at him, "You too, Rookie."

He eagerly followed them through the doors. Steve glanced around, not having been in this tiled, steel room before. There were two other guards already in the room. One standing beside a window of thick, unbreakable glass that might give even Steve a challenge extending down from the high ceiling. And the other was sitting behind a desk near the door. In front of the window was a table where a chair that was bolted to the floor sat.

Concussion looked at the guard behind the desk and said, "Flip the sound on."

The guard nodded, "Yes Sir." And he clicked away at some buttons on a keyboard in front of a screen. Concussion touched his ear and motioned for Steve to approach the glass.

Steve did so and stood in front of the window. On the other side of the glass was different. It was blinding white. Steve wouldn't have known there was a door until Concussion said, "He's coming in now." And the wall opposite the glass parted. And in stepped a man dressed in a white uniform.

His hair was dark, wavy and long, touching his shoulders. His eyes were dark and observant. His skin was slightly paled from his original fair complexion in their Sky High days; most likely from being in one room for such a long time. He also wasn't wearing glasses like he sometimes did back in their Sky High days. Back then Steve had just thought he'd wear them to get the girls to look at him because apparently his reading glasses were sexy…barf.

Two guards stepped in after him. Each wore black high-tech collars around their necks that had a white gently flashing light right at their throats. Similar black high –tech bands were around their wrists with the same flashing lights.

Steve looked away from the black collars and looked back at the man in the white uniform. Steve watched as he smirked, and impressively taken care of teeth, despite being in solitary for so long, were revealed.

His voice came into the room through a speaker on either side of the glass as he spoke. "Well, well. Hello Stevey. Been a few years huh?"

Steve didn't speak at first. How many years had it been? Nine? Ten? Eleven? More?

Barron Battle sat down lazily onto the stool on the other side of the glass and brushed his hair back, still arrogantly smirking at Steve. "Sit down. Sit down. It's been a while since I've had company! Imagine my surprise when I was told that the great Commander was coming to visit me here in my prison of white! And so early in the morning too!"

He chuckled and Steve slowly sat down.

"So what exactly brings you here, Stevey? Having some thoughts about moving in? There's a free room just down the hall from me. We could be housemates!"

Steve somberly averted his gaze from those twinkling dark eyes. He knew they were anything but friends. The playful, sarcastic banter was just playing up the deep loathing that Barron Battle had for him. He didn't exactly have the highest thoughts for the man on the other side of the glass himself, but still. He was here for a reason. He had promised himself he would remain civil no matter how heated, no pun intended, things got.

"You look so sad and tired, Stevey. What happened? Did the judge revoke my times-four life sentence?" Barron snickered and then he laughed in amusement at his own sarcasm.

Steve finally parted his lips and took in a deep breath. Barron cocked an eyebrow at him, a lock of his hair crossing his eye as he waited, smirking for Steve to speak.

"Barron…It's about Warren…"

Steve watched as the smirk slowly faded, and his expression became blank. He watched as Barron's eyes widened at him and his mouth opened his mouth slightly. Steve licked his dry lips and swallowed to wet his throat.

Then Barron seemed to snap. His palms shot up and slammed against the thick glass, making a dull 'thunk'. "WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT? WHAT ABOUT MY SON, YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE?" He jumped from the stool and erupted, banging against the glass. Steve saw flames raging in Barron's dark eyes, unable to escape his body because of the blinding white room that neutralized and held back all super powers, unless one was wearing the collars and wristbands that the guards in the room were wearing. "YOU FUCKING SWORE TO ME THAT YOU WOULD LEAVE HIM ALONE! YOU LYING BASTARD, WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY SON?"

The two collared guards sprang forward and dragged Barron away from the glass and trapped his arms as he struggled, kicked, cursed and spit.

"STRONGHOLD, YOU SON OF A BITCH!"

Steve stood up, and pressed a hand against the glass as the guards started to drag him toward the door. "No! Don't take him away!"

"YOU LIAR!"

He turned and looked at Concussion, "Don't do this! I have to talk to him!"

Concussion leaned forward behind the guard at the desk and said loudly, "Hammer! Valiant! Zap him and sit him down!"

Steve watched as the guard on the left yanked something from his belt. He thrust it against the side of Barron's neck and black electricity flashed. The surge made all of the veins in Barron pulse and he screamed out in agony. His body seized for a long three seconds and then went limp in the arms of the guards as he panted and groaned in pain. They approached the glass, dragging Barron back and shoving him into the chair.

He grunted and pressed his hands to the table counter before him to keep himself from sinking helplessly onto it. His hair covered his face as he panted heavily, trying to gain his breath back. One of his hands reached to touch the side of his neck where the guard had applied the wicked black electrical pulse Taser.

Steve pulled in a long breath and sighed wearily, sinking down into the chair again. He ran his hands down his face silently and rubbed at his eyes.

"I swear…if you've done…anything to my son…" Barron breathed.

Steve shook his head, "No. I made a promise and I keep my word."

Barron lifted his head slightly and looked through his hair at Steve. His dark eyes studied him. He grunted as he managed to push himself to sit up somewhat straight. He brushed his hair back out of his face and covered the pained side of his neck with a palm.

"What about my son, Stronghold…You might not have done anything to him, but you wouldn't be here if you weren't involved in any way. So tell me what happened. _Now_."

Steve averted his gaze again briefly. But he made himself look Barron in the eyes. If someone were to tell him something like this about Will, he'd want them to look him in the face and say it.

"Your son was working last night. He went into the bathroom where he…where a boy he goes to school with, Lashlan Sanford, fought with him," Steve said.

Barron stared seriously and lifelessly into Steve's eyes, listening intently, fearful of what he had to say.

"The boy pulled a switchblade on him. And stabbed him in the lung,"

Barron closed his eyes and his jaw squared.

"and cut open his stomach…" Steve murmured. He'd been on the scene himself. After getting an ID and trace on the boy who Will told him had done it, they'd tracked Lash to the Paper Lantern where they'd run into his chubby buddy who called himself Speed. The boy had been detained for further questioning and directed them to the Paper Lantern's men's room. As the Commander, Steve had shouldered through the bathroom door himself, saving the police platoon time with a ram.

Blood had covered the floor. Lash lay still with his head beneath the sinks. And Warren was slumped, bloody, limp, cold and motionless against one of the stalls.

Steve looked into Barron's eyes when they opened up again. They were brimming with tears. "…Is…is Warren…Is my boy…dead?"

Steve shook his head, "No."

Barron let out a breath as if he'd been holding it and placed his hands over his face.

"Not yet at least." Steve said.

Barron lowered his hands and his teary gaze became hard, "What do you mean?"

Steve leaned forward against the counter, "Barron, we airlifted Warren to the Institute. All night they've been working on him, trying to save his life and keep him alive. He lost a lot of blood in the fight. He's had six blood transfusions. But they're not working."

"What the hell do you mean they're not working? The Institute has the most professionally trained medical staff to work only on Supers and the best healers in the country! What the fuck is going on over there?" He banged a fist on the counter, "Those healers can reattach Markus Berkeley's arm after he gets it caught in the Mulcher in a game of Save the Citizen nearly twenty years ago but they can't give my son a fucking blood transfusion?"

"They're trying everything they can! But his body has rejected _each_ blood transfusion! They tried mortal's blood, super's blood, his _mother's_ blood! But whatever fire left in his body is rejecting it, attacking the blood cells and leaving him with less and less blood each time!"

"The fire…" Barron murmured in recognition.

Steve nodded, "I came here to ask you if you would come with me to the Institute, and do a blood transfusion for,"

"I'll do it." Barron said immediately.

"Your blood cells might be similar enough for his body to,"

"Stronghold!" Barron shouted, jumping up from his chair and pressing his palms to the glass, "Just get me _out_ of here. Take me to my son!"


	9. Bloodletting

Will had grown accustomed to the steady beeping in the background. He noticed as the hours ticked away that the beeps were very slowly growing further apart and how much more faint they were becoming. As they did, he held on tighter to Warren's hand.

For hours Will had sat in that uncomfortable chair, his head rested against the bed, his hands tucked beneath the five heat blankets that the Institute staff had cocooned Warren in, clinging to his hand. For a long time he'd had his head turned so he could see Warren.

A clear mask clung to his face, feeding him extra doses of oxygen to keep his punctured lung inflated, and the fire in his blood burning. There was discoloration around his closed eyes. His breathing was shallow and slow with a slight wheeze. There was a _white_ hot pack placed on his forehead that was constantly refreshed before the temperature could ever hope to drop to steamy hot. The healers said that he needed the extra heat in order for his body temperature to remain in a safe degree. They had to keep him from growing cold, otherwise Warren would be in even more danger.

For a long time, he'd watched Warren. Making sure he was still there. Waiting for him to open his eyes and smirk his smirk at Will, to tell him not to be scared.

But he'd turned his gaze away into the bed, burying his face in the heated darkness. They'd tried to give Warren blood six times now. But each time, it didn't work. The healers said it was Warren's blood that was causing the problems. The fiery cells in his blood might be treating the blood administered in the transfusions as intruders and were attacking and killing all strange blood cells. But then again, it might be that the fire in his blood was much too strong and the blood in the transfusions wasn't anywhere near powerful enough to mix with it. And so it just burned up the weaker blood. Whatever the case was, if they couldn't give him blood, Warren was going to die.

Will bit his lips, warm tears wetting the blanket. How many times had he cried through the night and into the morning? He didn't know. But his eyes were red and sore.

He knew he wasn't exactly the only one either. He'd been sharing Warren's room with another for most of the night. A woman that Will had only seen once before tonight. It was Warren's tawny-eyed mother.

When he'd first seen her, he'd nearly collapsed at her feet, apologizing to her. Begging her forgiveness. That it was all his fault. But she shook her head and hugged him close, murmuring comforting things into his ear. That it wasn't his fault. That she didn't blame him. That there was nothing to forgive him for. Shushing him gently, rubbing his back. Her comfort was painful. He wished she would blame him as he blamed himself.

And yet, she soothed him somehow. The weight of his guilt lightened temporarily as she hugged him. Her mere presence in the room for the past few hours had lessened the culpability somewhat. But when she fell asleep, it all came flowing over him again. It was a sharp ache in his chest. Terrible. But not nearly as terrible as the moment he first laid eyes on Warren the previous night.

Upon getting a call from his father, his mother told him frantically that Warren had gotten to…_him_…before anyone else had. That he was seriously hurt and being airlifted to the Institution which Will learned to be a large Super's hospital.

Good god, when he first looked through that glass into that room, the most horrible, agonizing wave crashed down upon him. Warren laid still and pale, his shirt ripped open on the table. Blood painted his chest a dark, crimson red. The surgeon healers frantically moved about the room on the other side of the glass, their gloved hands covered in blood. Warren's blood.

His vision had swayed and blurred with tears. Bile had risen in his throat and he had vomited on the hallway floor. Josie quickly sunk down beside him and wrapped her arms around him, hysterically comforting him, saying it would be okay, stroking his hair. All the while he clung to her, sobbing against her shoulder and shaking madly in her arms.

A staff member guided them to a nearby bench so the floor could be cleaned up. He had even asked if there was anything he could do from taking them to the waiting room, to offering a mild sedative for Will. But Will hastily declined, wanting to be fully alive and awake and focused.

Now Warren was on monitor. Every so often a healer came into the room to do a personal check on Warren's vitals and condition. Most of them looked in shamed concentration at Warren. They were mad at themselves as he'd heard them talking. These healers could mend a serious wound, reattach a limb if needed, but they couldn't replace blood. And then they would look apologetically at Will or Warren's mom, then leave the room.

Will lifted his head and looked over at the other side of the room. Warren's mom was sleeping in the hospital armchair that was settled against the wall on the other side of Warren's bed. He thought about the hushed tones that she and his Dad had spoken in a couple hours ago. He'd had no clue what they'd said. He figured it was about him and Warren or something. But then again, they probably wouldn't be talking about their relationship while Warren was near death.

Will laid his head back down and looked at Warren. And he quickly squeezed his eyes shut as tears burned in them. Not once had Warren moved. Not even twitched. Will hoped with everything that was left in him that he'd feel Warren's hand squeeze his. But there was nothing.

Will pressed his face into Warren's bed again and tried to ignore the rising frolic outside of the room. She heard Warren's mom stir in the chair across the room.

"Go, go, go!"

"Cover each hallway in the building!"

Will lifted his head wearily. Warren's mom had widened eyes focused toward the hallway.

Will turned and looked.

There were men in black uniforms and black weapons running past the window out in the hallway. Will turned back to Warren's mom and asked fearfully, "Is the SWAT team here? Who are they?"

The door behind him had opened as he spoke, "Come on, we have to prep him for another transfusion. Let's hope this one works."

Healers spilled into the room and hurried around Warren's bed. "Excuse us." Will was moved out of the way and his hands, made sweaty from lying under the heat blankets clenching Warren's hand, were pulled away. "Wait! What's going on?" Will exclaimed.

One of the healers looked briefly at him and then went back to coiling cords back around the monitor so the wheels under the bed didn't get caught in them. "Please! I thought blood transfusions weren't working!" Will exclaimed, trying to get closer to Warren.

Warren's mother stepped forward and grasped his arm.

"What's going on? Where are you taking him?"

A healer looked at him, "Cerberus is coming here. We have a chance to save Warren now. Don't worry." The healer looked to Warren's mom, "He said yes, Angela."

Warren's mom nodded, "Thank you, Alura."

And then they left the room, wheeling Warren out into the hallway. Will brushed his hair back and swallowed.

_Cerberus_? The man responsible for killing thousands and thousands of people? The man who nearly dominated the world? The man who is said to actually have the power to open the gates of Hell and consult with the evil that lies inside? The man who almost killed the Commander? …Warren's dad?

Will looked back at Warren's mom who still seemed so calm and collected. "He's going to give…Warren his blood…?"

She waited a long moment before nodding.

"But…why? I thought he was the worst Super Villain to have ever existed? I thought…"

She nodded, "He is. And he may be full of hate…but it seems that even after all of this time in solitary, he hasn't forgotten or stopped caring about his only son."

* * *

><p>The black light on the white collar fastened around his neck flashed gently. The white bands around his wrists pressed together behind his back like magnetic handcuffs. A guard in a black uniform sat on either side of him, cradling a semi-automatic weapon.<p>

Baron Battle briefly glanced down at his white clothes, then at the guards at his sides and then he looked across the small space in the chopper where the Commander and two other guards sat. He smirked, "I feel like an Oreo."

Steve shook his head.

Then Baron's smile faded. "You'll have to excuse me, Stronghold. I'm just trying to briefly distract myself from the fact that my only son is lying in the Institution, dying from lack of blood brought on by two knife wounds. And speaking of which, you never told me why."

Steve tilted his head slightly, "'Why'?"

Baron nodded, "Yes. And I know it wasn't some at random school bullying event. I know my son. He wouldn't have let _anyone_ get that close…unless of course he was seriously intending to hurt the other."

Steve averted his gaze, looking out into the bright, colorful day outside the chopper. He thought about how Baron's ocular gyroscope had been thrown intensely out of balance when he'd first set foot outside. The man had spent all of his time in that blinding white room for so many years. For a while, he'd kept his eyes closed and was silent. Only now he'd opened them and was speaking again.

"Answer me, Stronghold. I did mention before that I knew that you had something or other to do with it. Otherwise, Angela would have just come to see me."

Steve reached up and brushed his hair back with a gloved hand.

"We're about to land, Commander." Concussion said from the front.

Steve did his best to ignore the questioning gaze that Baron held over him as he gave an acknowledging nod. But he had to look back into those dark eyes. He heaved a sigh and spoke just as the chopper started it's decent to the pad atop the roof of the Institution.

"The boy who stabbed him…raped my son."

If Baron had been quiet before, he became dead silent at the words Steve spoke. Steve knew that Baron was probably smarter than him, and would most likely put everything together long before he even set foot in the stairway to descend into the hallways of the Institution. And if he didn't, Steve dreaded speaking those words out loud again.

The chopper set down and the guards took Baron's arms. The three of them hopped out and kept their heads low until they were out from under the chopper. Steve followed after them with Concussion, Vortex, and the rookie.

There were four guards waiting at the doors to the stairs already. They saluted Concussion and one of them said, "We've covered the building, Sir." Concussion nodded, "Good. C'mon, Cerberus, you've got a doctor's appointment. If you're good, I'll give you a lollipop."

Baron smirked chillingly at him before being guided none-too-gently down the stairs. Steve didn't like it. He knew that face and it never brought on anything good. Before Concussion followed the platoon down the stairs, Steve touched his shoulder, "I wouldn't joke around with him. Not today. If it's one thing he cares about, it's his son."

Baron was walked down three flights of stairs with each guard keeping their senses locked on him. He could feel his fire blazing under his skin. The white collar and bands around his wrists kept it inside. It was his first time out in years, and he'd never wanted it to be like this.

They finally brought him through a pair of doors. The hallways of the Institute were somewhat familiar. He'd just about destroyed it fifteen years ago.

Guards decorated the hallways. Healers made themselves scarce, but curiously watched him at the same time.

One healer came up to them where they stopped. She had blue scrubs and long brown hair tied back into a ponytail behind her head. Her forest green eyes clashed with the blue scrubs. But despite her fashion sense, she was obviously the bravest because the others held back slightly. "I'm Alura. We're ready to start the transfusion, if you're ready."

Concussion barked from behind Baron, "We're ready."

Alura cocked her eyebrow at Concussion. "Not to seem rude, Sir, but I wasn't actually talking to _you_. I was talking to the man about to save my patient. It _is_ his blood after all."

Steve had never seen Concussion thrown verbally off-balance before. He looked offended but also like a scolded puppy at the same time.

"So, Mr. Cerberus?" Alura asked.

Steve looked to Baron. It had to have been a very, _very_ long time since someone had spoken to him with such politeness and respect. Baron even looked a little thrown off-balance.

But he gave a silent nod.

Alura nodded back, "Right this way."

She led the way into a room with a large brown chair with cupboards and counters all around the walls. Concussion ordered the others to guard the door, and the rookie and Vortex to follow him inside. The door remained open.

Alura and two other healers started their own prep work. Preparing blood bags, IV tubes, washing their hands. Alura paused as she pulled on latex heat-protectant gloves. "We're going to need your hands free."

Baron glanced over his shoulder at Steve.

Steve remained mute and motionless. He wasn't giving orders. At this point, he was only here to protect everyone else from Baron.

Concussion sighed and moved up closely behind Baron. He did something and the bands around Baron's wrists gave a small beep. But as Baron started to move his hands in front of him, Concussion grabbed his wrists and hissed into his ear, "I know you can't resist yourself when it comes to innocent people, but do your best to fuckin' behave yourself and just do what we came here to do."

Only then did he let Baron's wrists go. Baron kept his eyes forward and said nothing. Alura picked up a needle and looked at Baron, "Could you please sit down and expose your arms for us?"

Baron nodded silently at her and reached up to unzip the front of his thick, white solitary uniform. Steve looked away as Baron lowered it around himself and tied the sleeves around his waist. There were scars all around Baron's chest and back. Each one was a memento from battle. One in particular was compliments of the Commander himself. The scar was pale now, but it still covered the majority of the small of his back, and most likely the front of his stomach.

Steve didn't want to think about the night of their last fight. The one where he'd nearly killed Cerberus himself. Granted, it was a situation where it could've been him or Steve. So apparently he'd been justified in slamming that broken tree through Cerberus's intestines. For anyone else, such a wound would've been fatal, but Cerberus pulled through, hardly losing any blood, just in time for the hearing in which the judge bound him with four life sentences.

Steve didn't want to think about it because since Cerberus had lived, there was always going to be the possibility of a rematch.

Baron sat down in the brown chair and rest his arms, wrists-up, against the arms of the chair. Alura and one of the other two healers went to work. They swabbed his forearms with sterilizing yellow alcohol and tied tubes around his biceps to bring up his veins. It wasn't hard to find his veins in the first place. There wasn't exactly fat for them to hide under. Unlike the Conniption, Cerberus hadn't let himself go after being placed in prison.

Alura said, "Here we go." and she pressed a needle into a vein. And she quickly retreated with a cry of surprise. Vortex, the rookie and Concussion lifted their weapons, barrels pointing at Baron who remained stock still and unaffected by the guns glaring at him.

Alura raised her hands, "No, no. It's not his fault! The needle wasn't strong enough. His blood melted it." She looked to Baron who looked up at her, "These are the same grade needles we used on your son. But he was weak so his blood probably wasn't at its full temperature. I'm sorry about that." She looked to the healer who had been about to prick Baron's left arm. "Elf, we need to up the grade."

Elf looked at the needle in his hand, "I don't get it, these are N73s."

Alura nodded, "I know, but his blood is too hot. Can you go find that box of X40s?"

Elf ran his hand through his blonde hair, "They're buried in the supply closet, I'll go dig them out." He hurriedly left the room, dodging around the guards.

The other healer looked at Alura, while pulling off her gloves, "I'll go help him."

Alura nodded, "Just hurry, Rosalva."

Rosalva left the room, running after Elf.

Baron looked to Alura who turned to him and said, "Don't worry. We'll get this done and we'll be able to save your son."

Baron nodded quietly and then said, "You all have forest names."

Alura paused and smiled lightly, "Yes. Aside from all the blood, the Institute is a peaceful place. We pick our own names here."

Baron nodded quietly and then looked to his forearm where his blood had melted the needle into nonexistence. He asked, "Do you have children, Alura?"

Alura shook her head, "No," but she smiled, "Maybe one day."

Baron nodded quietly again. Then he looked to Concussion. "So have you decided whether or not to allow me to stay until I know for sure that my son is going to make a recovery?"

Concussion rolled his eyes and looked out the door. "We'll just see." He muttered.

"I got'em! Excuse me!" Elf exclaimed from outside the door where the guards held him back before Concussion okayed him and Rosalva in.

They came in with an unused cardboard box. Elf used scissors to cut the packing tape and opened the box. Rosalva, Alura, and he gathered around it like vultures to a carcass, and went back to their work.

Elf and Alura found veins in either of Baron's arms and glanced at one another. Elf shook his head, "Better hope that these are strong enough to stay in his veins until we can at least fill a bag."

Alura nodded, "We have a whole box. As long as they can hold for about 45 seconds." She looked back down to Baron's arm and pressed the needle into his vein. "Got it! Rosolva!"

Rosalva leaned forward and attached a tubed bag to it and did the same for Elf when he got a needle in a vein. "Clench and unclench your fists to get the blood flowing." Alura instructed. And Baron complied.

Each needle last about 32 seconds before they started to give away. But the three healers worked quickly together and filled four bags and three vials in about half an hour. Baron closed his eyes and heaved a tired sigh as Elf and Rosalva left the room with the blood cart to start the transfusion. Alura taped gauze to the bruised holes in Baron's forearms and said, "You gave us a lot of blood. I'll send someone in with water and something to eat. Thank you, Mr. Cerberus."

She turned gently to start for the door. But Baron suddenly took her hand, "No." Concussion, Vortex and the rookie raised their weapons. Alura looked down at Baron in surprise. Baron opened his eyes and said quietly, "Thank _you_." And his grip slipped off her hand and his eyes closed again. He turned his head slightly and sighed again.

Alura turned back and looked at Concussion. "He's too weak for a helicopter transport. I strongly suggest that he remain here for a few hours."

Concussion hesitated and then gave in with a nod. Alura hurried from the room to follow after the other healers to help with the transfusion. It was quiet in the room for a moment or two. That is, until Baron spoke.

"So, my son is fucking your son."

Steve swiftly looked to Baron who still had his eyes closed.

Concussion reached to his belt and touched his black electrical pulse Taser. "I said fuckin' behave yourself, _Battle_."

Baron opened his eyes and looked to Steve without moving his head. He smirked, "Either that or they're very _close_ friends...How ironic."

"Watch it." Concussion growled.

"I watched my language when we had female company." Baron muttered. "All I'm doing is gaining information that I solely deserve, Concussion."

Steve touched Concussion's arm, "It's okay. Really." He looked to Baron and then leaned against a bare counter with a sigh.

"As far as I can tell, yes. They are involved. I can't say that I'm too happy about it, but I'm indebted to your son. After Lashlan Sanford attacked my son, Warren took care of him. Probably saved his life. And I guess in the process they developed into…_something_…"

"Very ironic." Baron chuckled.

"And last night Warren got to Lashlan Sanford before me and a police team could."

Baron sighed, "And I know the rest…" then he closed his eyes again.

Silence followed. A long, uncomfortable silence. Steve wanted to find out how Will and Josie were doing. He hadn't seen them since he'd left a few hours ago to go see Baron in solitary.

After a long while, Concussion shrugged, "I might as well do a collab with the boys that we posted here last night anyway. They've been there all night guarding Suspect ES17 anyways. They need a refresh." He glanced at Vortex and the rookie and gave Steve a nod before he left the room, touching his ear and speaking via radio.

"Stronghold."

Steve looked at Baron whose eyes were open and alert, looking at him.

"They sent a post here last night?"

Steve looked down to the floor.

Baron sat up and leaned forward, staring in grinding awe. "Lashlan Sanford is still alive, isn't he?"


	10. Sons of Dark and Light

**Yayyyy, finished with midterms in school! I'm pretty sure I flunked the second essay in the Psychology one! And I totally bullshitted the first Enlish essay XDD I mean, I studied everything but what was on these things! Whatever, I'm surprisingly not feeling all freaked out about it, and I'm not worried. So I'm a little worried that I might have a case of Senioritis. But then again, I've never been one to freak out or worry too much about grades since I got through middle school. **

**I've never been in danger of failing a grade so I'm not worried. I'm in all Honors classes and stuff, and I'm placid about my skills to successfully bullshit an essay and get a decent grade on it. I mean, I swear to the Goddess, I am a professional procrastinator, and I am SO good at weaving a bunch of bull into an essay, and I hand it in...Then a week or two later I get it back and I never really get anything below 87. And I'm just like "Oh nice. Real good influence, Teacher." **

**But it's the final half of my Senior year. I've got big plans. And the time for them to start is getting closer and closer. It's kinda scary. But I think I can handle it. **

**Y****a know...I have the story planned out in my head, but once I get it in a document, it takes so many pages and words to get it all down. This is turning out a little longer than I thought. But the end IS near so...haha. Yeaaah I know I said that in the last two chapters...you know you love it when I keep feeding you more and more and more...**

**Read on my little sicko army ^_^**

* * *

><p>Will watched from the other side of the window with anxiety clenching at his throat. Josie gently placed an arm around him, biting her thumbnail. Warren's mother, Angela, stared placidly through the glass off to one side.<p>

"Okay, get the blankets off." Alura instructed.

The healers around her pulled the heating blankets down from under Warren's chin and let them idle at his waist. Will bit his lip, disturbed by the large patch secured over his lung and the gauze bandages wrapped around his middle where the knife had dragged through his stomach. The monitor beeped slowly and steadily, presenting his slowing heartbeat to the room. The voices of the healers were muffled slightly from the behind the glass.

He watched them turn his bare arms. He watched Warren's body start to shiver from the absence of the heating blankets. Alura shook her head, "Cover him back up, and just get his arms over the blankets. We can't let his body temperature drop more than it has already. He'll lose balance and go into shock."

A short haired, blonde healer spoke as he helped replaced the blankets and adjusted Warren's arms as Alura had instructed, "We should do a test first. Inject him with a vial. If this doesn't work, it could kill him."

A red haired healer shook her head, "We don't have time for that, Elf. If this doesn't work now, he'll die anyway!"

"Rosalva's right. We don't have time. We have to do this now." Alura said, hanging a blood bag on an IV stand.

Will watched the healers stick needles into his already bruised forearms. He looked to the origins of the tubes. Two blood bags marked 'HEAT RESISTANT' in type hung on either side of him.

"Speed it up guys, those bags may be heat resistant but I don't know how long they'll hold up. Hook it up." Alura called. She turned her forest green eyes to look out the window, directly at Will. "Don't worry William."

The long, grueling process began. The agonizing waiting. The terrible watching. It was worse than the scariest, gory horror movie he'd ever watched. But he couldn't bring himself to turn away.

He couldn't tear his eyes from the clear mask over Warren's mouth and nose, feeding his lungs and his body oxygen. The bruises on his forearms. The discoloration around his eyelids. The bandages around him. The blood.

Will waited for Alura to look back at him as the healers kept a vigil, controlling the blood flow, waiting just as Will was, fearing that Warren's body will reject the blood, or worse…

Alura kept checking Warren's pulse. She kept feeling his forehead. She kept closing her eyes as she touched his forearms, as if listening or feeling whether or not Warren's body was rejecting his father's blood…or if his father's blood was eating his body alive…

Will swallowed to wet his dry throat. And his heart leapt to it when he saw Alura turn and look out the window. She smiled, "He's okay."

Air burst from Will's lungs and he closed his eyes, pressing his forehead against the glass. Josie grabbed a hold of him to keep him from slumping to the floor. "My god…" He breathed. He opened his eyes and looked into the room, at Warren. Angela touched Will's shoulder and he felt a calm, comforting presence take over him. He looked over his shoulder into those tawny eyes. She smiled silently. In the short time Will had spent with Angela, she had always seemed collected and placid. But now Will saw the tears spilling down her face. It relieved Will somewhat. He had initially thought that the Peacemaker didn't have feelings.

* * *

><p>Will lifted his head from the warmth of the heated blanket when he heard Alura's familiar voice. "Hey, Will."<p>

He turned and looked at her.

Her hair was down now and a little mussed but she smiled and it didn't seem like such a big deal. She moved across the room, glancing at the empty chair on the other side of the bed. "Where's Angela?"

"Miss Peace had a phone call." He answered.

Alura kept smiling, stepping up to the side of Warren's bed, checking his monitor and pressing a few buttons. "Probably some world leader somewhere in the world who threw a temper tantrum."

Will smiled lightly and shifted his hands that were hanging onto Warren's still hand. He looked at Warren as Alura placed her stethoscope into her ears and pushed the heating blanket down slightly. She pressed it to Warren's chest and simply listened, once in a while pressing it to different areas of his chest.

Her forest eyes looked at Will's. She studied the blueness of them as they stared at her patient and then smiled. She stood up straight again and removed the stethoscope. "You love him don't you?"

Will's gaze jumped to her. She just continued smiling her gentle smile.

His eyes downcast for a moment and he looked back at Warren who still remained motionless, and unconscious. He studied how the discoloration around his eyes had lessened. How his breathing was less shallow and wheezy. How his hand felt considerably warmer than the heating blanket itself. He licked his dry lips and looked down again.

"I…I don't think I could've lived if he…didn't…"

Alura gently touched his shoulder, "Are you okay?"

Will nodded, "Yes…I don't think I've ever been so scared for someone else in my life…If this is what love feels like…how can it hurt so much at one point, and then feel so wonderful at another?"

Alura rubbed at his shoulder gently, "Love is the most unpredictable feeling in the world. It's okay to be scared, to be confused. I doubt even the Angela completely understands love herself, and she happens to be the Peacemaker."

"Yeah…" Will murmured.

Alura smiled and glanced at Warren, "He's lucky to have you watching over him I think."

Will looked at Warren again, "He's done so much more than that for me…how am I supposed to ever repay him? I almost got him killed…"

Alura shook her head, "I doubt he'll ever ask you to. Just give yourself and him some time, Will. A chance. You're both going to heal just like his wounds will."

* * *

><p>"May I see my son…?"<p>

Steve looked to Baron. He was sitting there, staring at him intensely. He still looked a weak and tired despite the food and water that Alura had given to him when she'd come back to share the positive results of the blood transfusion so far. Now Warren was just being monitored.

Steve looked to Concussion.

"Please…" Baron said quietly.

Steve continued watching Concussion, even though he could still feel Baron staring directly at him.

"Please…let me see my son…"

Concussion rolled his eyes to look up at the ceiling and he leaned his head back. Then he looked at Baron, "You know what, fine. Let me call downstairs and let'em know you're coming." Then he turned and started out the door mumbling, "Hope you fucking try something so I can beat the shit out of you."

Steve glanced down at the floor and looked to Baron who sighed quietly, hanging his head. He lifted his head again and brushed back his long hair. He leaned back against the back of the brown chair and untied his sleeves from around his waist. He scooted forward slightly in the chair, and pulled the top of his uniform back up, slipping his arms tiredly through the sleeves.

Steve heard Concussion muttering to the guards outside. "Yeah. He's still looking pretty woozy, so I don't think he has much strength to try anything. We'll get him downstairs, let him see the kid, and then we'll move him out the Southern end of the building for an armed truck transport. Last thing I need is that blondie calling in to someone that I 'mistreated' the son of a bitch by taking him on a chopper while he was '_too weak_' for it." And then Concussion scoffed, and reentered the room.

"Hey, Commander? Can I speak to you in the hallway for a minute?" he asked.

Steve looked at Baron who had zipped up the front of his uniform and was pushing himself up to stand. Baron got on his feet and then looked at Steve. He heaved a sigh and then sat down again, "Don't look at me Stronghold. I'm missing several pints of blood, I'm lucky enough to make it to my feet let alone spit in someone's eye around here. Go on and have your little conversation. Just get me down to see my son."

Steve briefly watched him, and glanced at Vortex and the rookie who were suddenly joined by two more guards that shuffled into the room.

Vortex gave Steve a brief nod, "We know what we're doin'. I've been guardin' this mook for years." Concussion said, "Yeah, they got him. C'mon. Just a quick talk."

Steve reluctantly gave in and left the room, following after Concussion who led the way down the hallway. Concussion pushed open a door and flicked on the light. It was an empty room with a few computers, filing cabinets and stacks and stack and _stacks_ of files filled with paper. Concussion briefly glanced around the room, shaking his head at the controlled chaos and closing the door behind Steve.

Then he looked to Steve. "The other suspect that was apprehended last night, the chubby kid?"

Steve nodded.

"He's been talking up a storm. Turns out that there's a small circle of villains in Sky High that have been plotting to destroy the school, and raise a generation of villains from scratch."

"What?"

Concussion nodded, "Yeah. And guess who's behind it."

Steve started fearing the worst. Was it Warren? Had he been following in his father's' footsteps after all? But the answer was even more fantastic and unbelievable than he'd been imagining.

"Royal Pain."

Steve shook his head, "That's impossible. Royal Pain was killed in the blast almost eighteen years ago. He can't be behind this."

Concussion shook his head, "No. Remember Sue Tenny, that science geek? Disappeared before graduation? Turns out she was, and _still_ is Royal Pain. And the Pacifier is a weapon that turns anyone in its path into a toddler. After Pain's Pacifier exploded, she was just downgraded to the diaper stage and she started life over again. She's currently under the name Gwen Grayson, a senior at Sky High. She's been recruiting villains at the school again. Just from the next generation."

Steve shook his head and put a hand on a wall, "This is nuts. This is _nuts_. How is this possible?"

"It's all true. We apprehended Pain, her giggly little sidekick, and a girl named Penelope Beauregard. We got mounds of evidence now. Turns out the uh…the attack against your son was a kind of way that Sanford was jumped into this circle. Pain was gonna use it as a ploy to get close to him so she could eventually infiltrate your Sanctum, steal back the Pacifier and bring Sky High down from the sky when the Homecoming dance came around."

"God…this is crazy…" Steve mumbled, rubbing his face and running his fingers through his hair.

Concussion nodded, "Yeah I know. If Peace hadn't gone after Sanford, we probably wouldn't have caught this thing. The boy is most likely the savior of Sky High…"

_It's so ironic isn't it? _Steve imagined Baron saying.

"Concussion?"

Concussion turned and opened the door, "What is it?"

It was the rookie. He glanced at Steve with a respectful nod but looked at Concussion, "Cerberus is getting antsy."

Concussion nodded, "Alright." He looked at Steve, "We'll talk more about this later?"

Steve nodded, "Yes."

Concussion led the way back down the hallway and moved through the guards in the room where Baron was sitting in the chair, still looking tired, but irritated.

"On your feet." Concussion ordered.

Baron stared briefly up at Concussion and then placed his hands on the arms of the chair, starting to push him up to stand. He sighed quietly as he stood up. Concussion shook his head, "I'm not carrying you down those fuckin' stairs so get your head on straight."

Baron tilted his head slightly at Concussion, like a snake. Steve nervously watched the fire glint slightly in his dark eyes. Then Baron smirked, "I'll do my _absolute_ best, _Taylor_."

Then Concussion grabbed Baron's wrist and spun him around, shoving him into the wall. Baron let out a breath, his eyes closing weakly with the sudden, unexpected movement. Cerberus panted quietly in dizziness as Concussion yanked his wrists together and pressed in a code on his watch for the bands around Baron's wrists to attach themselves magnetically to each other with a clack.

Concussion hissed angrily into Baron's ear with his words stoutly separated, "Do _not_ play with me, Battle. I haven't slept in nearly twenty-four hours. I'm dealing with a circle of villains that need to be interrogated. I've got the D.O.D., the N.S.A., and the executive branch breathing down my neck making sure that I'm taking _very_ good care to make sure that you don't end up playing a repeat of the destruction you caused here fifteen years ago. I've most likely got an office stacked with paper work to go over because of all this. And on top of all of it, I got a phone call from my wife and she confessed to me that she slept with my sister a month ago and she thinks that she's a lesbian now. So the _last_ thing that is good for you right now is for me to be _severely_ pissed off."

He held up two fingers that were nearly pinched together, "And I am…_this_…close."

Steve pressed his lips together. He knew that Baron and Concussion weren't exactly fond of each other, but this was out in the open. Even under all the guard, and with the collar and bands that contained his powers, Steve was still worried. He knew Cerberus…and he'd known Baron even longer. And Steve knew to recognize several expressions that belonged to him. Concussion probably knew them as well, but didn't seem to care.

Steve saw Baron open his mouth and smile, "If I remember Tara correctly, the case most likely is that you couldn't satisfy your wife sexually."

_Shit. _

Steve hurried forward as Concussion turned Baron around and threw his fist into his jaw. The blow knocked Baron down to his knees where he hung his head, covering his face with his hair as blood dripped onto the floor. The blood burned the wax on the linoleum floor and the linoleum itself after a few seconds.

"Concussion! _Stand_ down!" Steve loudly called, holding Concussion back with a hand at his chest. "He is _baiting_ you. _Don't_ give him that power." Steve said shaking his head.

Concussion stared into Steve's warning eyes for a long moment and looked down at Baron who stayed down on his knees, his hands held together behind his back by the white bands around his wrists. Now he was looking up at Concussion with an emotionless expression on his face and tired eyes. The blood staining his lips and dripping down his chin appeased Concussion. He hadn't put all of his concussing powers behind the punch, but he was satisfied that he felt better.

He pulled at the collar of his black uniform flak vest and said, "I'm cool." He glanced at Vortex and another guard and gestured with a slight nod at Baron.

They stepped forward and took either of Baron's arms and pulled him up to his feet. Then they walked him out the door and a circle of guards enveloped Baron. Steve and Concussion followed close behind. The rookie opened the door to the stairs and they started downward two flights.

Before going down another flight they went through a door. Healers in the hallway had been warned previously so not many were around. But there were indeed guards.

Concussion pressed a hand to his ear, "Everyone on his present floor stay, everyone else wait for the receive down on the ground…Good."

Steve saw Josie speaking to one of the healers up ahead and he moved around Baron and his guards. She turned and looked at him as he approached and let him kiss her and gently hug her. She saw Baron over his shoulder and stiffened slightly in Steve's arms.

"It's okay," Steve muttered. He asked, "Where's Will?"

She answered, "In Warren's room."

"Is Angela in there too?" Steve asked but Josie shook her head. "No. She had to take a phone call."

Steve glanced back at Baron who was approaching with his escorts firmly grasping his biceps. "C'mon, we're gonna have to get Will out of the room. He wants to see Warren."

Josie gave a nod and she walked alongside Steve, leading everyone else around the corner, down another hallway and another corner. Josie stopped in front of the window and glanced back at Steve. He gave a brief nod and she opened the door, with Steve behind her.

Their son still sat beside Warren's bed, where he'd been most of the night and morning. He still seemed to be clasping Warren's hand beneath the blankets. And when Will looked over his shoulder and saw his parents, he looked tired.

"Hey, buddy." Steve smiled gently.

"Hi Dad." Will wearily said and smiled softly back.

He touched his son's shoulder and glanced at Warren. There was color back in the unconscious boy's face. His heart monitor sounded a little more stable. There was no heat pack on his forehead and only one heat blanket covered him. The oxygen mask was still over his face as a precaution to make sure oxygen was constantly being fed to his lungs and body to aid in replenishing the fires inside of his veins.

Steve rubbed gently at his son's back, "Listen, do you think you could come outside for a little bit?"

"What? Why?" Will asked.

"Well, Will…um," Josie tried.

"There's someone here…to see him." Steve said blatantly.

Will looked around his parents and stilled when he saw the man in the white uniform out in the hallway, looking into the room. He had no eyes for Will, or his parents. Only for Warren. And Will instantly knew why.

That man was Cerberus. Warren's father.

He could hardly believe the striking resemblance he bore to Warren. When Steve had shown him his old yearbook, and he'd seen a picture of Baron Battle back in Sky High, he'd seemed like a cheerful kid, a little preppy and smart, and apparently had been a big hit in _Oklahoma_.

Now he wore no glasses, and his hair was longer and darker. His smile wasn't there. He looked like he was in pain in fact.

Pain like Will had been in when he'd first laid eyes on Warren last night.

"Just for a few minutes, Will." Steve said, still holding his hand on his back.

After studying Baron for another moment, Will hesitantly let go of Warren's hand and slowly sat up. "C'mon sweetheart," Josie said, "We'll go get something to eat in the cafeteria."

"…Okay, Mom. Dad?"

"I'm gonna stay here, Sport." Steve said.

Will nodded quietly and let Josie lead him through the door. Steve followed after. Will paused when he stood outside the room. He looked briefly over at Baron Battle, who did not look over at him. And then Will looked to his father again.

Steve gave him a small nod, "Don't worry."

Will nodded slightly back and then walked down the hallway with Josie's hand at his shoulder.

Steve watched his family walk away, and then looked over at Baron who still stared through the glass at Warren.

Concussion was standing impatiently, cocking an eyebrow at Baron behind his back. He prepared to say something but Steve caught his eye and shook his head. Concussion tilted his head in questioning and Steve gestured slightly through the doorway.

Concussion shook his head, "No."

Steve shook his head back, "That is his _son_."

Concussion sighed loudly at the ceiling and shoved past a guard. He stepped up behind Baron and held a couple of buttons on his watch close to them. The bands separated and Baron's hands moved slowly to his sides. "Keep it short." Concussion said.

Baron didn't move at first and Steve thought that Concussion was going to concuss him through the wall. But Baron slowly moved toward the door, never moving his eyes from Warren. Steve stepped aside and let Baron through, closing the door as his archenemy walked slowly into Warren's room.

Concussion spoke, "He toes so much as a tube, put a clip through him. And if anyone fuckin' hits the kid, you'd better hope Cerberus gets you before I do."

Steve glanced around as the platoon's two best marksman stepped up to the window, hands waiting on their semi-automatic weapons. He looked in through the window at Baron who was slowly sinking down to sit on the foot of the bed, on the far side, with his back to them. But his profile stayed entirely visible as he stared at his son.

* * *

><p>"Alura?"<p>

Alura turned from filling out a document on her laptop. "Yes, Elf?"

The male healer brushed his fingers through his hair, "When we were doing a donation from Cerberus…we filled three vials right?"

Alura nodded, "And four bags. Don't worry, he's been resting for the past hours, he should be in okay condition to at least make it back to the prison where he can get the rest he really needs."

"Yeah…" Elf said, furrowing his brow in thought.

Alura turned in her chair, "What is it Elf?"

"Well, I guess we might've misplaced it in all the shuffling and chaos. But one of Cerberus's blood vials is missing." Elf said. He shrugged. "I'll keep looking around."

Alura lowered an eyebrow as Elf walked away. She turned back to her laptop. She continued filling in the document report but paused again. _Hadn't_ they filled three vials?

* * *

><p>Baron reached slowly and then brushed his hand across Warren's forehead and down through his hair. He smiled lightly.<p>

"You're just about grown up, boy…" He muttered.

He took in a deep, calming breath. "I know that I can't exactly be father of the year…and I wish I could be around all the time. But if you're someone like me, that's difficult. It's hard to be someone who doesn't like the way things are run, and then stands up against it. You're more like me than you'll ever know, but I don't think I'd want this life I have…for you, son. You seem to have things going pretty well for you here…"

He glanced into his lap, seeing blood seep from where he'd poured it quietly across the bands in a straight line and onto the blankets and burn them slightly before he pressed his fingertips to them to stifle the smoke.

He looked back at Warren and brushed his hair back again. "Whatever path you choose, I'm always going to care about you, Warren. A part of me hopes that you'll join up with me one day…so that I don't have to ever be faced with the decision of killing you. But another part of me hopes…that you'll become the greatest hero to live…and kill me."

From behind the glass Concussion tensed and the two guards quickly lifted their weapons, aimed at Baron.

Steve stepped forward, grabbing one of the barrels, "Don't."

He looked back into the window. A few seconds ago, Baron had taken a hold of Warren's shoulders. That had originally been mistaken as an attack. But now he had pulled his unconscious son into his arms, burying his face into Warren's shoulder and cradling the back of his head.

* * *

><p>Alura scratched at her chin, leaning back slightly in her chair. Elf went by the station and she held up a hand, "Elf, wait."<p>

"What is it?" he asked, turning back toward her, looking up from the charts he had.

"Did you find the missing vial?" she asked.

He shook his head and lifted the charts, "No. I don't have time for it right now. I just got assigned to supervise that skin graft surgery for the burn victim downstairs in a couple hours."

"Oh…well okay…go ahead. I was just wondering." Alura said, offering a smile.

Elf smiled back and then walked down the hallway.

Alura started chewing on the end of her pen and she started humming thoughtfully.

* * *

><p>Baron slowly laid Warren back against the pillow. He wiped briefly at his teary eyes, also brushing away the blood trickling down the side of his neck from his white high-tech collar. He saw blood dripping down his wrists and wiped it away as well, careful not to get any on his uniform. He stood up from Warren's bed.<p>

He drew a deep breath in through his nose and looked at the ceiling, rubbing at his eyes. Then he forced himself away from the bed and out of the room. He looked right to Concussion, and then turned around, holding his wrists behind his back. Concussion stepped forward and pressed the buttons on his watch close to the bands. They clacked together.

Concussion looked up at Steve and glanced down the hallway where Will was standing alone, apparently having left his mother in the cafeteria. He looked at Steve again, "Thanks for the help, Commander. We got him from here." Steve tilted his head slightly, questioning him.

Concussion gave a small nod down the hallway and Steve looked over his shoulder. Josie appeared and touched Will's shoulder, looking as if she was asking him if he was okay. Steve pressed his lips together briefly and then looked back at Concussion, "Thank you."

Concussion nodded and then said, "Well, c'mon boys. Let's get back." He started down the hallway, with Vortex and the rookie, along with his remaining six guards who formed a circle around Baron. Josie wrapped an arm securely around Will's shoulders as Concussion passed. Baron slowed in his circle and stopped. The circle paused and Concussion looked over his shoulder, "Battle! What the hell?"

Baron looked down at Will through his darkly dressed guards. Will swallowed silently, staring back into the darkest eyes he'd ever seen. And then he smiled a little, very softly, and even warmly. For a moment, Will thought he could see the boy he'd been in that yearbook picture.

Baron looked over his shoulder, "Commander,"

Steve was already warily watching Baron's departure and was well-aware of how close he was to his son. He'd been readying himself to spring forth if he needed to. But the soft expression on Baron's face told a different story. Steve had never seen that expression pointed toward him ever before from Baron. And the last time he had called Steve by his Super name, he'd jammed a tree through Baron's intestines with hate in his voice, but respect for his archenemy when it came time for him to speak seriously.

"When the time for my vengeance comes…I give you my word that I'll leave your boy alone." Baron said.

Shock leapt in Steve's chest but out of respect for himself and his archenemy, he kept it from showing on his face. Instead he gave a respectful and gracious nod.

Will looked away from his dad and back at Baron. The dark eyes found his again. His soft, respectful expression was still plain on his face. He said, "Look after Warren." and then he looked away and started walking again, his circle packing in around him with Concussion leading the way, surprisingly not mumbling a complaint about wasting time.

Josie watched them disappear around the corner and then looked down at Will, running a hand through his hair. Steve sighed quietly, looking at his small family. They started toward him and he met them halfway, wrapping them up in his super strong arms, careful not to crush them.


	11. Tales of Child's Play

**Well honey-buns. It is official. After this chapter, OFFICIALLY, the next chapter shall be the last of Ember In The Dark. I'm very happy that so many of you leave reviews and that you like the story so much. You make me stronger as a writer. And also make me very happy for being members of my own little sicko army. Haha, I know several of you are reading Oxygen as well. No worries, I'm still working on that as well. **

**I have not abandoned you my little sickos. I love you all! **

**Please enjoy the second to last chapter! And I promise, there'll be some...ahem...more sexy time in de final chapter...**

* * *

><p>Concussion was a little taken aback by the sudden respect that Baron had shown Steve. He'd been watching over Cerberus for years as he was forced to live in the confines of that blinding pure white room. He'd always been smug and amused whenever he was spoken to, ordered around or anything of the sort in his time at the prison.<p>

So in a few moments, he'd been reintroduced to a side of Baron that he'd forgotten. Sure, he and Concussion were anything but buddies in high school, but he'd known that the guy was more than just a smug smile and sophisticated glasses. And now, despite the fact that he really did not like the long-haired, sharp tongued ass, he had a little respect for him.

But he countered himself, making himself realize the possibility that it was all for show.

He heard the guards behind him slow down slightly. And then they really started to slow down.

"Concussion." Vortex said.

Concussion looked over his shoulder. Baron was walking unevenly, panting slightly and his eyelids were fluttering. "Battle," he started, but he ended up watching Baron's eyes sink closed, and him go falling forward to the floor with his next step.

"Fuck!"

A passing healer tried to get through the circle of guards, "Oh my Goddess. Let me check him."

Concussion came forward, "Back off. Give him a second. He just gave nearly half his body of blood." He knelt beside the still Baron whose face was buried beneath his hair. "Hey, wake up. On your feet."

The healer shook her head, "He shouldn't be walking about in this condition!"

Concussion glanced at the healer, "With all due respect Ma'am, I have a job to do. I have to get him to the truck and get him back to his cell before I get canned. C'mon out of it, Battle. Join the living. Shit, roll him over. Get his face out of the floor."

The rookie knelt down with another guard, one pushed, the other pulled and they rolled Baron onto his back.

Concussion gave Baron's cheek a few slaps.

The healer shook her head, "He's not responding, I'll call my team." She reached to press a button on her pager.

Suddenly, in a whirling plume, fire burst into the hallway.

Concussion smashed back into a wall, held in the grasp of a man of flames. Though surprise and fear pumped through his veins, Concussion bravely yelled, "Get the healer out of here!"

A guard grabbed the screaming healer and tried to run away, but the blaze encircled the segment of the hallway, trapping those in it, and locking out those outside of it. Men of fire stepped from the curtains of red, seeming to be waving beings with cores of white fire and eyes of orange fire. The guards opened fire upon the fiery men, not sure what was real and what wasn't, for Baron was nowhere in sight.

Vortex yelled, "Rookie! Put'im out!"

The rookie dropped his semi-automatic weapon and pressed his wrists together. Water, clear and blue, sprayed from his palms and dissolved into the air with the immense heat of the hallway. "It's evaporating too fast!"

Concussion writhed in the man of fire's grip, grinding out yells of pain as his skin burned.

A raspy whisper came to him, "I wish I had an appropriate monologue to recite. But I really can't sum up my feelings at all. I suppose all I can say is 'fuck you'."

Fire reached down his throat. The blazing hot air thrust into his lungs, collapsing them, voiding them of air that was breathable. Concussion tried to pull in a gasp, but nothing came. Apparently he wasn't the only one to suffer.

His men suffocated around him, their flesh burning away. His eyes fell on the healer. Fire was eating her from the inside out, like a parasite. Her screamed were swallowed up by the flames, her hair burning away from her skull.

* * *

><p>Lash writhed. Pain. <em>Oh god, it hurts. So much! Please! Someone make it go away! Please! AHH!<em>

"Oh, hello my friend." Someone said. A deep, friendly-sounding but menacing and cold voice.

Lash groaned in agony, trying to call out for help. To scream. But that hurt too.

"Good to see that you've decided to join me."

Lash forced his eyes wide open. Things were blurry. Who was talking to him? Why wouldn't they help him? Oh god, it hurt so much!

"Oh look, a chart. Mind if I take a look?"

Lash could feel straps binding him to a bed. Agony blazed in his neck and his hands, all the way up his arms and to his chest.

"Of course you don't." The voice said, and Lash heard something click and pages turn.

"Sanford, Lashlan. 6'1. Elasticity. Interesting power…Oh _my_. Medically induced coma to control pain levels? That's quite serious...Burns varying from first degree to fourth degree. Strangulation damage. Gangrene possibly setting in. Hmm,"

A figure in his blurry vision leaned over him. He felt a stabbing agony join in his terrible pain and this time he screamed. This person had just torn a piece of his _neck_ off of him!

"I think gangrene _has_ set in. But that's just my opinion." The voice told him.

Lash's sight was starting to be shocked into focus. Someone was standing over him. A woman? No a man. A long-haired man. Wearing white? He tried to turn his head but his neck screamed in horrifying agony.

"I recommend you not do that, Lashlan." A page turned again.

Then the voice suddenly had a clear face. Dark, long hair. Dark, dark eyes. Tall, and muscled. Strong features. Lash jumped, and his voice half rasped, half screamed through the tube that was down his throat, "Peace!"

The man looked up from the clipboard he had in his hand. "Oh, no. You're mistaking me for my son. Though I _am_ flattered that you believe I look so young. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Cerberus."

Lash tried to swallow, but the tube made it impossible, and the attempt his neck muscles, whatever remained of them, made to move awoke more awful pain. With each breath, Lash was moaning, whimpering and trying to scream.

Cerberus smiled and brushed back his hair, looking down at the chart. "I find it interesting that you have all types of the degrees of burn. Some like a sunburn. Others burning down to your second layer of skin, the dermis it is called in case you didn't know. Those are the burns that are hurting you right now. The third and fourth degree burns…ha, well it's a good thing you can't see them."

Lash's eyes followed him as he walked leisurely around the bed.

"I can see the cords of muscles, tendons and what's left of your veins. In the third and fourth degree burns, your nerves are destroyed and burned away. Most likely why you can't feel them..." He leaned close, "Oh look at that, it's your esophagus. Fascinating."

Lash still writhed, unable to free himself, unable to escape the agony. And he started trembling in fear.

Cerberus chuckled, "What else do we have here in your chart? Hmm…oh look. You were scheduled for a series of skin graft surgeries for your neck, arms, hands and chest where the burns are the most severe. Hmm." Cerberus looked down at Lash, "Considering your elasticity, they wouldn't have to put the skin and muscle they remove from your thighs or your buttocks or your lower back through a mesh to stretch it out. Isn't that convenient?"

Lash couldn't answer, the pain and agony was torture, but he wouldn't pass out. What the hell was going on? He needed help. Why was the father of Warren Peace out of jail? Why wasn't anyone helping him? He hurt so much. Where was he?

Cerberus chuckled and nodded, "I must say. I am impressed with Warren. His powers have really developed. I mean, look at you."

Lash whimpered and tried to speak past the tube.

Cerberus tilted his head. He reached forward and yanked the tube from Lash's throat. Lash gasped and vomited yellowy acid from his stomach. He coughed and gagged, writhing under the straps that held him to the bed. "Please…I'll do…whatever you want!" His voice rasped. "Please! It hurts so much! I'll…I'll do anything! Please! Don't kill me!"

Cerberus chuckled, "A villain who begs for mercy? Tsk tsk tsk. Villains are not what they used to be. And here I was, thinking of having a sidekick one day."

"Please, I'll do anything! Sidekick, lackey, slave, whatever! Please!"

Cerberus laughed and rubbed lightly at one eye. "I am _all_ for the benefits of the darker side of society, Lashlan. I _am_ the darker side of society in fact. But the thing is, Lashlan…" His smile left his face, "I _loathe_ rapists." He stood and moved to the foot of the bed where he set down the clipboard. "I'd say that they're the diseased froth of this disappointing earth. Leeches. Cockroaches. Or hookworms that wiggle themselves through human veins to the heart, the lungs and the intestines where they live happily gorging themselves on flesh and blood, and dispelling eggs through human bowel movements. Or maybe they're more like that crystallized substance that accumulates amongst the sores on one's genitals after contracting the herpes virus."

Cerberus scratched idly at his chin for a moment and gestured at Lash, "I will say this however, maybe you were justified in stabbing my son. Who knows if you weren't acting in self-defense? Or maybe the other way around? No one really knows. But the fact of the matter is, in all plainness, you stabbed my son and you nearly caused his death. There aren't skin graft Band-Aids for intense loss of blood for us powerful pyrokinetics. He would have died and you would have recovered wearing the flesh of your ass around your neck and some scars. And that…really…_really_ pisses me off."

Cerberus's face was an expression of deathly seriousness now. Fire danced in his eyes. A few flames licked the air from his white-clad shoulders.

Lash flinched when Cerberus wisped a fingertip along his forehead, brushing back a lock of his sweat-dampened hair. "Lashlan Sanford. Do you have any idea how many ways I could kill you?"

"Oh please, God…" Lashlan breathed, "Please, no." Tears burned in his eyes, joining the intense pain he was already in. Agony that he was surprised hadn't killed him yet. And since it didn't, Cerberus was going to.

"I could fill your lungs with hot air. That in turn would collapse them so they'd be much like a vacuum sealed bag." Cerberus said, circling around to the other side of the bed slowly.

"I could set a fire inside your chest, burning you from the inside out."

Lash tried screaming for help again. But his vocal chords hurt so much and all he could really get out were loud rasps.

"I could burn this room down around you, crushing you, suffocating you with the smoke."

A small flame leapt from his fingertip, and shaped into what looked like a flat, star-shaped person that ran across Lash's chest before disappearing.

"I could burn away your brain stem, severing the connections to your nervous system which would paralyze you, make you mentally challenged and then brain dead. A vegetable."

Two small fire people appeared on Lash's chest.

"I could enflame my hand and thrust it right through your chest cavity, ripping your heart out through your back, and then cook it in my hand."

Their pointed hands touched and they swayed back and forth.

"Or maybe I could torture you. I could burn off your eyelids, and melt your eyes starting with the pupil. I could scald a hole in the middle of your tongue. I could heat the fluid in your cochlea, thus making you hear boiling water in your head until you slowly and painfully become deaf."

Two more small fire people appeared and held hands with the two that stood on Lash's burned chest, and swayed along with them. Tears slid from his eyes, "Please, I'm begging you,"

"I could evaporate the mucus that lines your stomach and watch you writhe in pain as your stomach slowly ate itself. I could melt away the soles of your feet until I could count your tarsal and metatarsal bones one by one."

Two more fire people linked hands with the four already on Lash's chest. And they formed a circle. They started turning, flickering and jumping, like a frolicking, childish game of ring-around-the-rosie.

"I could light a fire in your urinary tract, and your penis would develop second degree burns on the inside, after your prostate swells up and deteriorates from heat irritation of course." Cerberus shrugged, "Or I could simply envelope you in a cocoon of flames and reduce you to nothing but a few bone marrow remnants and ashes in less than ten seconds. It is all simple child's play to me."

The fire people dancing on Lash's chest disappeared and Cerberus leaned in close to Lash. "And that is using my powers alone. I could become more…_primitive_…as you seem to have done my son. I could clip your toes off with hedge clippers. I could slice open your sinus passages with a box cutter. I could remove your thumbs with a pair of pliers. I could use that semi-automatic gun I have over there propped against the wall and lodge a few bullets into your femur bones and let the arteries bleed out. I could slip the blade of knife into your lung and watch you drown in your own blood. I could drag that same blade through you stomach, releasing all of the acids and toxins into your body, burning away your organs."

Cerberus then laughed and threw up his arms, "Or maybe I could just leave you alone and watch as your body succumbs to infection and gangrene. Do you know what gangrene is, Lashlan?" He paused, watching tears stream from Lash's eyes. "It means you _rot_. And things drop off. Flies would happily chew on you and lay eggs in your flesh while you're still alive." He smirked, reached down and patted his white-clad inner thigh, "Hate for that to happen right around here, eh?"

Lash was immersed in agony now, quietly sobbing, tears flowing from his eyes. "Please."

"Cerberus? What are you doing?"

He glanced over his shoulder, and Lash followed his gaze. Through his tears he saw a woman with long blonde hair wearing blue scrubs.

"Please, help me." He rasped.

"Get out of here, Alura." Cerberus said quietly, turning back to Lash.

"Cerberus! You _can't_ do this!" The healer cried, approaching.

Cerberus turned on her and fixed his glare into her forest green eyes. "Alura…You saved my son's life, and therefore I am indebted to you. However, if you come closer, I _will_ kill you."

Alura paused, her forest green eyes shining in the light of the hospital room.

"So leave now." Cerberus growled, and he turned back to Lash.

Lash watched her back away, toward the door. He shook his head, "Please, no, don't leave. Help me."

Cerberus reached toward Lash who saw Alura gingerly pick up the gun from where it was propped against the wall just inside the door. His eyes widened, hope rising in his burned chest. He looked to Cerberus as he leaned close, "I think I've decided what I'll do, Lashlan."

Alura raised the gun.

"Yes. I do think I _have_ decided." Cerberus said quietly.

Lash's trembling body writhed as Cerberus's hand came closer. His eyes looked to Alura.

Cerberus whipped around, grabbed the gun, shoving it away. It went off with a loud but clean crack. His hand engulfed itself in red fire and thrust forward through Alura's chest and out her back. She cried out, grabbing his arm, blood jumping from her mouth. She looked into his eyes, disbelief, agony and fear in her eyes. But his eyes glared unfeelingly, fire waving in them. Beside her spine, his hand protruded in a fist, grasping her bloody, warm heart.

He lowered his arm, lowering her body down to the floor as her forest green eyes started to film over with death. He yanked his hand from her chest, spattering blood onto his face and his uniform. He glanced at her heart in his hand and dropped it callously to the floor. He glanced up when he heard chatter on the radio he'd lifted from one of his escorts.

They'd found the missing platoon...It seemed that Concussion and his crew were in critical condition as well as a healer. He stood up, pressing his palm hard against the lower left side of his ribcage where his hot blood burned his uniform. He turned and looked at Lash who still lay sobbing, writhing, agonized, tortured and now bleeding.

Baron tilted his head slightly. He glanced down at the healer's body, "Well, look at that Alura." He stepped close to Lash's bed and touched the spot in his thigh where the bullet had entered his leg after exiting out of Baron's back. He touched the wound and smirked lightly at Lash's pained, terrified face. "Admittedly I hadn't picked shooting you in the femur bone, but I suppose it is what it is. Does it hurt, Lashlan?"

Lash's answer was a sobbing, raspy scream.

Baron smirked, pressing his hands into the slippery, heavily bleeding wound. Attempting to staunch the profound flowing of blood. Baron shook his head, "She hit the femoral artery, Lashlan. You're losing blood amazingly fast."

"Please! Please don't kill me! Please!"

Baron chuckled, "I'm not the one who killed you, Lashlan. Your attempted savior did. Isn't that ironic? It seems the Institution is big on irony around here. At least today it is." He lifted his blood-covered right hand from Lash's thigh and fire sprung from his palm, glowing red, waving and hot.

"No! Please, God, no! NO! PLEASE!" Lash screamed.

Baron cocked an eyebrow at him as he writhed and struggled, sobbed and screamed. "I was simply going to cauterize your artery a little. Sure it would've hurt, but it's your choice." The fire in his palm went out and he turned from the bed. He scooped up the gun with his left hand, "You might get lucky. They're already looking for me, and they know that I'll have come down here. You might get treatment. Just remember, if you do, I'll come back. And I won't spend time introducing myself and letting know a various amount of ways to torture or kill you. You'll have already heard them, so I'll just get on with it."

He opened the door with the other hand and glanced back, "Personally, I'm hoping that you'll survive." And he stepped out into the hallway, pressing a hand to his wound as he did. He growled in pain as fire bloomed from the entry and exit wound, cauterizing it to get the bleeding to stop. His gaze whipped to his left where he heard hurrying footsteps and watched her freeze only a few yards away as he came out of the door. He looked into her tawny eyes. Her long black hair was flowing free, slightly mussed from running.

She looked to his bloody hands and back to his eyes. His lips parted slightly and then came gently together again. He looked to the floor briefly seeing how his blood was splattering to it in small little droplets and trickles from his where his wound had been bleeding.

He could feel the Peacemaker reading him as she stared at him, slowly stepping closer.

She paused two feet from him when he spoke. "I've only killed one person today, Angela. And that was because she tried to kill me. Make sure that makes it into the reports. I will not take credit nor will I take the blame for crimes I did not commit." He said, glancing briefly up as the outside platoon and a back-up herd shouting from the stairs and the hallways further away on this floor. He wanted so badly to touch her, cup her face. But his hands were drenched in another's blood.

She looked over her shoulder when she heard the platoons entering the hallways.

"Go! Go!"

"Find him!"

"Live ammunition!"

"Faster!"

She looked back. But he was gone, a trail of blood in his wake.

* * *

><p>Things were quiet now. Back when it was still daylight, the Institution was alive with fear, panic and screaming.<p>

Cerberus had gotten free and left his guards and a healer with second degree burns. Will had heard that the leader of the platoon, Concussion, a guy that his dad had gone to school with, was suffering from torturous hallucinations of his platoon and the healer burning alive from one of Cerberus's famous trademarks, Fire Scrying.

Alura, was brutally killed. He'd only known her for a short amount of time. But she'd been the head of the team that had saved Warren's life. She had been the first person to actually ask him deeply about the relationship he had with Warren and how he felt about him. She hadn't seemed nervous about it either. To her, Warren wasn't the son of the Commander's archenemy, Cerberus. Warren was an individual to her. Her patient.

So when Will had found out about her death, it had hurt. The pain still burned in his heart. How many more people were going to get hurt, or die because of him?

He wasn't going to let Warren die. He refused to leave his bedside when his parents insisted that he come home, wash up, eat, sleep. He wouldn't move. So Will stayed, and sat in the uncomfortable chair, laying his head against Warren's bed, holding his hand.

The heating blanket and pack were no longer there anymore. Warren's body temperature had risen back up and was entirely balanced. There were large gauze pads taped over the dark needle bruises in his forearms. The oxygen mask was still on his face, still feeding fresh oxygen to the rekindling fire in his veins and aiding his punctured, healing lung.

Will kept a hold on Warren's hand, desperate for him to wake up, respond, squeeze his hand, tell him not to be scared, something. But still, he hadn't slept for nearly twenty-four hours. He hadn't eaten in at least seven. He was just so tired.

But still, it was quiet now. The calm after the storm. He drifted away to sleep. Freed from the thoughts of his faults, his injured pyro, the dead healer, the escaped Super Villain…Just free.

That is until he thought he felt Warren's fingers twitch. He lifted his head quickly, looking from his hand to Warren's face. But he was still unconscious. Will sighed and laid his head back down, closing his eyes. But then he swore he felt it again. He froze this time, waiting, sending all of his focusing senses to his hands, clutching at the pyro's hand.

And it twitched, and his fingers trembled slightly for a second. Will lifted his head and looked to Warren. His eyebrows were lowered somewhat. His lips were moving by the slightest behind the clear oxygen mask. But his eyes were still closed.

"Warren?"

And Warren murmured something, nearly as silent as a breath. Will clenched Warren's hand, "Warren?"

"W…Will…" Warren breathed, muffled by the mask.

"I'm here. You're okay. I'm okay." Will stammered. He'd had no idea what he'd do when Warren awoke. He was glad he was awake, but he was terrified at the same time.

Warren's eyelids opened and he looked tiredly at the ceiling. He said something again, licked his lips, and started to stir. Will got to his feet as Warren winced.

"Warren, please don't move, you're h-"

"I killed him…" Warren rasped, pulling the oxygen mask off of his face with his left hand. Will paused and Warren looked briefly into his eyes. And then Warren turned his face away. "Killed him…" he murmured.

Will realized what Warren meant and saw the shame in those dark eyes when Will looked upon him. And Warren didn't want Will, so innocent and pure, looking upon a coldblooded killer.

He squeezed Warren's hand, shaking his hand, "No, Warren, look at me." He reached and pressed his right palm to Warren's left cheek, turning his head. Those dark eyes somberly lifted up to Will. "I'm just like my father…"

Will shook his head, stroking Warren's cheekbone with his thumb, "No, you didn't. Warren, you didn't…you didn't kill him."

Warren stared up at him, "I saw him die. I _murdered_ him."

Will shook his head, "Warren, listen to me. Please." He sat on the side of the bed, holding Warren's warm hand to his chest and caressing the side of his cheek. "You didn't kill him. He was revived at the…scene."

"He's alive?" Warren asked quietly, not sure how to feel about the fact that Lash, who'd hurt…attacked…_raped_ Will, was still breathing. Part of him was relieved. He _hadn't_ killed him. He wasn't a murderer.

"Well…no." Will answered.

Warren lowered his brow in questioning. "What do you mean?"

Will drew gentle circles on the back of Warren's hand with his thumb, "He…he commit suicide…"

Warren's questioning gaze softened and his eyebrows went up slightly. His lips parted briefly and closed again. Will shook his head, brushing his tears against Warren's knuckles. "It's been a long day, Warren." He closed his eyes, and held onto Warren's hand with both of his, pressing his warm skin against his face. He sniffled a little and sighed.

Warren's other hand came up and settled against the back of Will's neck. Will opened his eyes a little and let the pyro pull him down onto the bed. He turned, facing him and lying against his side, letting Warren's right arm slip around his back, pressing him close.

Warren's hand tilted up Will's chin slightly and he gently kissed his lips. He brushed his fingers through Will's hair and whispered, "Tell me…"

And he listened quietly as Will spoke of the grueling hours that Warren had spent unconscious, having blood pumped into him only to have it eaten away by whatever was left of his fiery blood. The sad looks that Alura, the head of the team of healers that took care of him, gave him. The achingly long hours that Will held onto his hand. How Cerberus had been brought to the Institution…and willingly gave Warren blood.

At the mention of his father, Warren stiffened slightly but stayed silent. He listened, his eyes looking toward the ceiling, intertwining his fingers with Will's as he told of the success of his final blood transfusion. How the Institution broke out in panic when Warren's father escaped custody. How Warren's father left his prison guards slightly burned and delirious. How, according to what Will's father had told him after he demanded to know, Warren's father had gone to…Lash's room. How Cerberus had threatened him, taunted him, told him stories. How Alura had shot Cerberus, hitting Lash in a major artery in his thigh in the process.

"Your dad escaped the building. They rushed…him to the ER and they got the bleeding to stop. He was supposed to go in for a few skin graft surgeries after that. My dad said that they couldn't have left him in his room alone for ten minutes…I guess he was so afraid of your dad…coming back…" Will explained quietly.

Warren sighed and ran his fingers through Will's hair.

Outside the window Josie looked on, hesitant to enter and give Will the turkey sandwich she'd bought for him. She stood there, hugging herself lightly, holding the sandwich. She didn't exactly want to interrupt whatever kind of moment her son and Warren were having. She'd raised her son alongside Layla, and she had initially thought that one day she'd find them cuddled up on the couch. She hadn't expected this, but somehow, she thought this was probably better.

Steve came walking up the hallway, back in his civilian wardrobe after briefly leaving the search for Cerberus to check on his family. "Josie?"

She glanced at him and then gestured with the sandwich, "Aww."

Steve cocked an eyebrow and then joined her beside the window, looking in. He pressed his lips together slightly and reached up to brush back his hair with a light sigh. Will was lying beside Warren on the bed, wary of his wounds. Warren was combing his fingers quietly through Will's hair, and both were otherwise still. He glanced at Josie and smiled gently. "So what do we do about this now?"

Josie smiled at her son, relaxed against Warren. "Get to know him." She went around Steve and slowly pushed open the door. Steve watched Will look over his shoulder, and the tired-looking pyro look up at Josie. She smiled, "Hi. I'm Josie." She glanced over at her shoulder and gave a nodding gesture for Steve to join them. Will looked expectantly at him through the window as he sat up. Steve smiled lightly, sighing quietly through his nose and then went through the door, Josie, Will, and Warren, not just the son of his archenemy. Will's rescuer. His son's lover.


	12. My Ember In The Dark

**Well my darling little sickos, this is the end of Ember In the Dark. Admittedly it IS a little short, and it gets a little mooshy in the end...but there's still some sexy-time ^_^' I hope you all enjoyed it my darlings. Especially you Loveless fangirl. I wrote it for your request after all! Hearts and slash!**

**I _will_ consider taking more requests. And don't worry my Oxygen readers, I'm still on it! And I'll let you all in on a little secret...I've been sitting on a very small Warren/Will fiction, maybe a oneshot...I'm not sure. It's not quite finished yet. And I also have _ANOTHER_ one in the works, not sure of the length of this one either... **

**I hope you like Lakota injuns! And I hope you like long-haired rockstars! **

**So keep on the look out! **

**Tawny**

* * *

><p>Warren opened his eyes and peered through the dark as his door creaked quietly open. He heard gentle footsteps move into his bedroom. He recognized the quiet feet. It was Will.<p>

Since he'd been allowed to go home, Will had slept over almost every night, or every other night at least. Seeing as Warren had been prescribed some heavy pain medication, he was usually asleep most of the time. Either way, for the past week, he had woken with Will up against his side, but hardly touching him at the same time, wary of his wounds. In the hiatus of time in which he was awake, he was either eating, drinking, going to the bathroom, cleaning his stitches and redressing them or being fed another dose of pain pills.

But tonight, he had refused to take any pills. That in turn let him sleep lightly enough to hear Will cautiously move across his room and gingerly slip into his bed. Warren surprised the smaller boy by reaching out and taking his forearms in his hands. Will gasped as Warren pulled him close and wrapped an arm around him.

Will shifted back slightly and whispered, "Did I wake you? I'm sorry."

Warren shook his head and murmured, "No. I'm just not in a doped up coma tonight." Will smiled lightly and asked, "Are you in any pain?"

Warren shook his head again, and murmured, "No."

"Do you need," Will started.

"Shhh." Warren hushed. He loved the sound of Will's voice after he had spent so long saying absolutely nothing. But throughout the week, in the brief intervals that Warren was awake and Will was around, all he did was ask if there was something he could do for him. If he was in any pain. If he needed anything at all.

Warren didn't want to hear Will worrying.

"I'm fine. Entirely fine." Warren reassured the smaller boy, pulling him closer. He gently ran his fingers through Will's hair and sighed quietly against his face. "Tell me what you've been doing this week. Besides worrying about me…" He murmured.

Will didn't speak for a moment. For a moment he closed his eyes and let himself feel the warmth in Warren's skin. He'd spent the past few nights sleeping beside him, keeping himself from touching him too much. He wanted Warren to heal entirely and be painless. But it felt good to be in his embrace with his warm fingers pushing through his hair again.

"Well…they flushed out all of the villains in Gwen's circle at school."

"Mm?"

"Yeah. They got a confession out of Gwen's sidekick too…a freaky little guy called Stitches." Will said.

"Stitches?" Warren murmured, continuing to run his fingers through the smaller boy's hair. Will smiled, "Yeah. Dad said he remembers him from high school. Lou Palmer was his name. Always was the giggly type apparently."

He licked his lips briefly, sighing contently at Warren's quiet, combing fingers. "Dad told me…he told me that she was planning to take down the school. Make it…fall from the sky…"

Warren opened his eyes and looked into Will's through the dark.

Will shook his head, gazing at him, "If you hadn't…if you hadn't done…the entire school would've fallen on Homecoming. She would've…turned us all into children and raise us all to be villains…and that would've been the end of Sky High…"

Warren scoffed quietly, "Funny how one thing affects another."

"But you still got hurt…" Will muttered.

Warren shook his head. He turned up Will's chin and kissed him.

He murmured against Will's lips, "I feel great."

He sighed quietly through his nostrils as Will responded hungrily. During the week, Will had hardly touched Warren, afraid to hurt him. That on top of the constant bout of sleep that Warren had been immersed in frustrated him beyond the mysterious beyond. He needed this.

He growled in his throat and turned Will over onto his back, straddling him. Will gasped, grasping Warren's forearms tightly, making Warren's bones creak loudly.

"_Ow_." Warren grunted.

"I'm sorry!" Will cried, his hands jumping from Warren's forearms quickly, as he shrunk into the sheets. He looked at his hands, shocked by the sudden force that had returned to his strength.

Warren ignored the throbbing pain ringing his forearms. He stared down at Will, and smiled a little in disbelief. He leaned down and captured Will's reluctant, surprised lips. He brushed his fingers through Will's hair as the smaller boy shook his head against his lips.

"No…we shouldn't…your wounds aren't healed yet. We shouldn't…I think my powers are…I don't want to hurt you." Will breathed every moment their lips weren't touching.

Warren smirked with a small laugh. He remembered, days ago, that he was telling Will nearly the same thing. He kissed Will again. From the attack on Will to the erratic danger that Warren had been through, Will's powers had disappeared. He had hated how Will had been so silent, scared, and weak.

But now that things seemed to be inching back toward a balance in their lives, Will's powers had returned. Quite suddenly in fact. Will hadn't remembered having to be gentle when he handled his silverware and dishes back home during dinner. He hadn't remembered having to worry about propelling Warren's front door right off of its hinges when he came earlier that night. But now, after a comforting reassurance from Warren and a warm, thrilling kiss he had nearly broken Warren's arms with amazing strength that he wasn't used to controlling. More strength that he knew what to do with.

Warren shook his head to silence Will's warnings, kissing his neck, "I'll be fine. You think I can't take a hit?" He chuckled.

Will couldn't help but smile lightly for a moment either, thinking of the massive fight that they'd had that had nearly annihilated the school's cafeteria. But he writhed a little, controlling the force he put behind his hands as he tried to push Warren off of him. "No…we can't…" He pulled in a gasp when Warren bit the vein in the side of Will's neck.

Warren reached under the band of Will's pajama bottoms and into his boxers, running his heated tongue across the bite mark as he did. Will let out a gasp when the pyro touched his growing erection. He shook his head again, "You're still recovering!" Warren chuckled huskily against Will's skin, and drew the smaller boy's lower lip into his mouth. He felt the push on his chest fade as Will's hands wrapped around him, pulling him closer with a bit of force.

Will panted breathlessly as Warren began to worship his neck with tongue, teeth and lips. He closed his eyes, and tried to pull himself together. Before he could, Warren shifted and slowly pulled his bottoms and boxers down his legs. He writhed slightly. The last thing Will wanted was for Warren to overexert himself.

His hands briefly touched Warren's sides warningly as he shifted again to kiss Will. He felt the flame retardant gauze wrapped around his midsection, protecting the heat-resistant stitches. He tried to shake his head once more, but Warren cupped his jaw and kissed him.

Will sighed as his hand glided gently down his neck, down his chest and wrapped itself around his erection again. Will let out a guttural moan, his hands fisting in Warren's hair as the pyro stroked him roughly.

"Okay," he breathed, having been thoroughly negotiated. He heard an approving growl in Warren's throat. "But you'd better stop, hah, teasing me…" Will ground out. He heard Warren briefly fumble in the drawer of his nightstand. And only a few brief moans and caresses later, his legs were nudged apart gently and he felt Warren's warm, slick fingers circling his entrance. He jumped slightly with a grunt as a finger slowly pressed inside of him.

Warren leaned down and ran his tongue roughly against the side of Will's neck to distract him. His hand kept up on Will's arousal as well. He kissed and sucked on Will's skin, nipping at it occasionally and biting gently. And he was pleased with Will's responses.

The smaller boy pressed into the pyro's caressing hand and lolled his head to another side, intoxicated on the adulation being administered to his sensitive neck. Will bit out delicious groans, his hands fisting in Warren's long hair as another finger pressed into him.

Will's body seized briefly as he choked out a cry. In the dark his eyes rolled upward, thick air passed through his skull and he shuddered. He moaned, holding Warren tighter as he cocooned himself in the feeling of his fingers pressing in and out of him, hooking inside of him and brushing against that wondrous spot within him.

Warren crushed Will's lips with his, trying to ease his own pleasurable ache. He was patient, but patience could only last so long when one has been downing pain pills with drowsy effects for a week with one's lover hardly touching them for fear of breaking them. He was surprised that Will had even let him do this at all since his powers had come back. They just gave him another reason to be paranoid.

Warren didn't want Will to be paranoid. A pleased growl thrummed in his chest when Will gasped, arching his back when _three_ fingers scratched at that sensitive bundle of nerves inside of him. He shivered and seized Warren's lower lip between his teeth when he kissed him again, eliciting a gasp from the pyro.

"No more…please…God, _please_ no more…_now_…" He breathed against Warren's throbbing lip.

Warren pulled his fingers from Will's insides, fleetingly capturing Will's lips again when he whimpered at their exit. When he pulled away, he slicked himself with lube and slowly pressed into the smaller boy. He let out a crude grunt when he grabbed Will's legs and pressed his thighs up against his chest.

Will lolled his head from side to side as Warren slowly started a gentle pace of thrusting in and out of him. His eyes rolled upward and he breathed out whines of pleasure and gasps of desire. Almost in a state of delirium, he held onto Warren to keep himself in this world. The pyro worshipped his sensitive neck with wonderful groans and growls as he carefully thrust into Will.

The muscles in Will's stomach clenched and the cords in his neck tightened when Warren brushed against that sweet spot. He yelled out, his fingertips scratching at Warren's shoulders, making him hiss.

With each thrust, Will's belly felt full to the brim with his lover.

With each thrust, Warren reveled in the heightening temperature of his blood as it boiled and raged inside of him. He could hardly feel the ache in his stomach as his adrenaline and pleasure built up against the dam.

His long hair tickled Will's face as he leaned down to kiss him. He relished the moan he muffled with his lips, delighted at the sound of it rumbling in Will's throat. His big hands moved from the smaller boy's thighs and up to cup his face as his warm tongue tangled with Will's. He captured his upper lip and sucked roughly on it.

Will's hands slid down along Warren's body, feeling his heated skin. They pulled the pyro's hips hard to his next thrust which he met with his own hips. Warren grunted loudly, gripping Will's hair. "Easy," he gasped.

Will breathed, "I'm sorry!" guilt riding through him. He could've easily just broken Warren in half. He _had_ to be more careful. But Warren expressed his forgiveness by grazing his teeth against Will's lower lip. He groaned into the pyro's mouth, being pressed back into the sheets, being moved, lifted, and lowered by Warren's thrusting hips.

He sharply gasped, a blinding white shock racing through his muscles and nerves that lifted his cloudy mind from his body for a fleeting moment. His pleasure-wild scream was muffled by Warren's hot palm as he came destructively. Another shock pulsed through him and he whimpered, his insides becoming coated with searing hot liquid from Warren's body as the pyro bit down on a loud, growling groan.

Will's body slowly came falling down from the clouds like rain and he felt as if he had become an exhausted puddle in his lover's bed. He panted, eyes closed, hands cradling the collapsed pyro over him. He relished the sound of Warren's hot breath against his ear as he descended slowly from wherever he had gone.

He listened quietly to his pyro's breathing as it slowed. His skin was warmed by Warren's body to the point of sweating. He kissed the exposed side of Warren's neck, his lips warming against his skin.

He flinched when Warren shifted with a groan and pulled himself from Will's insides, flopping over onto his back. Will turned, propping himself up on an elbow, "Are you okay?"

Warren placed a hand over his bandaged stomach, and breathlessly tried to laugh. "I'm fuckin' _amazing_."

"You're bleeding!" Will squeaked, seeing dark spots against the gauze wrapped around the pyro's middle. Warren shushed him and pulled him against his body. "Stitches seeped a little when the blood got pumping. Calm down. I'm alright. Better than that."

Will swallowed, "Does it hurt? How bad? Are you sure that,"

"I sure hope that I did a lot better than you're letting on," Warren chuckled.

Will shook his head, blushing, "No! No, no…I mean that was…that was…that was…I…" His gaze lowered and he sighed.

Warren smirked his trademark smirk, brushing the pad of his thumb against Will's cheekbone.

"Sorry," Will murmured, "I know I'm talking too much…" He laid his head against Warren's shoulder.

Warren shook his head, clasping the smaller boy's chin. He traced Will's lip gently with his tongue, drew it into his mouth and sucked on it gently. He brushed his fingers through Will's hair and he murmured, "I want you to talk." He kissed Will again, warming his lips. "Don't be quiet ever again."

Will swallowed and looked into Warren's nearly-closed, dark eyes. Then he tried to smile and laughed softly. He whispered, "Let's just hope you don't regret saying that. I'm not Layla on a rant about recycling and femininity, but I still got a pretty big mouth." Warren smiled, and closed his eyes, sighing quietly against Will's forehead.

"Mmm." Warren hummed sleepily.

There was a brief moment of silence as Will listened to Warren breathe. Finally he spoke. "Warren?"

"Yes?"

"Thanks for being...my Hero...my lifeline...you know..." Will murmured, blushing, trying to turn his thoughts into speech. "I'm glad you're my...light...my ember in the dark..."

Warren smiled, eyes still closed. His arms tightened slightly around Will and he kissed him silently before becoming still once more.

Will watched his pryo for a short time until his breath was long, steady and quiet. Warren's strong arms remained wrapped tightly around Will. So he settled contently in in Warren's protective embrace, laying his head against his shoulder and closing his eyes. He listened to the fiery heart in the pyro's chest beat placidly.

And on the brink of sleep he heard Warren murmur something. It was so quiet and he was nearly asleep so he wasn't sure if the pyro had actually said it or not. Nevertheless he felt a significant amount of heat in his chest that wasn't simply from Warren's furnace of a body.

_"…You're my Will…"_


End file.
